


a new midnight

by amory



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Homeless, Angst, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Here we go, Homelessness, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Rewrite, Student Louis, please read the authors note
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-10-01 21:51:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17252030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amory/pseuds/amory
Summary: Harry is a homeless boy who has been running from his demons for the past six months, but the new life he's creating is beginning to fall apart. Louis is a uni student and a skilled actor with an alcohol problem who specializes in evading personal questions. On one snowy afternoon they stumble into each others lives, and everything changes.





	1. Prologue

“You looking for someone, love?” A gruff voice whispers in his ear. Harry feels groping hands at his waist, cold fingertips ghosting his hips under his worn coat. Trying to hold back a yelp, Harry twists away.

“I-I’m not-no,” he says, pushing the man away and twisting to get the unfamiliar fingers off of his skin.

“Hey! Get back here, you whore!” the man yells after Harry, his words slurring together.

Harry winces at the name but keeps walking as fast as he can without breaking into a run. The last thing he needs right now is to appear suspicious. He makes it out to the high street where cars come speeding past and street lamps light the area. Harry takes a deep breath of stagnant air before sighing heavily.

At least the man didn’t follow him, or try to steal something. Harry had learned his lesson soon after he fell asleep one night in an alleyway without checking the area first or keeping a firm hold on his bag. He had woken up to an older homeless woman going through his things and taking off with two of his protein bars.

Harry’s stomach contracts painfully at the thought of food. He can’t even remember the last time he ate something. It might have been three or four days ago when Harry found an unopened package of miniature donuts thrown out around the back of a grocery store. Harry should’ve saved it, but he couldn’t stop himself.

He’s so stupid.

Harry scours the streets for a place to sleep. He’s somehow found his way into a more residential area of London, meaning there are limited alleyways for him to curl up in as the buildings grow closer together. When using a coffee shop bathroom earlier in the day, Harry had seen the weather in a newspaper someone left behind and knows there’s supposed to be a snowstorm tonight. That’s really the reason he’s found shelter so early, but now that he’s been driven out of it, he has no idea where to go.

“You alright, mate?”

Harry turns to see a boy staring at him. They’ve only just passed each other in the street, Harry hadn’t even noticed him before. A shock of what Harry assumes is bleached hair pokes out from under his dark beanie and his blue eyes take Harry in suspiciously.

“Um,” Harry starts.

“Are you drunk?” the boy asks. He’s Irish Harry realizes.

Harry shakes his head. “No, m’fine.”

The boy frowns, his eyebrows furrowing. “Are you sure? You’re stumblin’ around quite a bit, mate, are you lost? Let me call you a car or something.”

Harry frowns right back at him, waiting for all of the words to process. The boy speaks quite fast, and that combined with the thick accent and the fact that Harry has barely eaten in days is almost too much for his woozy brain to handle.

“I’m not drunk,” Harry says, finally. “I’ll be fine, but thank you.”

The boy does not seem to get the hint, though. “How old are you, anyway, fifteen?” he asks, taking a few steps forward. “Let me get you an uber or call someone for you, really.”

When Harry shakes his head again, the boy seems to finally look at him, He takes in Harry’s appearance, from his unkempt and dirty hair, down to the trainers on his feet that are ripped and not at all appropriate for the weather. It all seems to click for him.

“Are you homeless, mate?” The boy asks.

Harry shakes his head and is ready to give him the same excuse he gives everyone who pries. He’ll tell them he had a fight with his dad, that he ran out and is headed home right now. He won’t take anything they offer him and will put on a fake smile if he as to. Before he can do any of that, though, the Irish boy is already talking again.

“Tell you what, I only live two blocks away. I could give you a room for the night.”

Harry takes a step backwards and shakes his head. “I’m not a prostitute,” he snaps.

The boy’s laugh is so loud that it startles Harry into jumping a bit. “I’m not trying to pay ya for sex, mate, trust me. You aren’t my type. Just let me get you a place to stay tonight-and maybe a shower, because no offense, but you look a bit dirty. We’re supposed to be getting a massive storm tonight, you can’t sleep on the street through that.”

It’s so damn tempting. It’s too tempting, really, and Harry has to stop himself from following this boy home. Harry isn’t used to anyone being this nice to him without having some ulterior motive. Sure, the guy looks nice and innocent enough, but Harry knows very well how deceiving looks can be.

“I really can’t,” Harry forces out, his voice quivering. “But thank you, honestly.”

The boy sighs, obviously not happy about Harry’s refusal, and reaches deep into his pocket. “I’m Niall, by the way. Don’t suppose you’ll tell me your name?”

Harry shakes his head.

Niall nods like that was what he expected and finally comes out of his pocket with a wad of cash. “Here’s about twenty, it’s all I have on me right now. Eat something tonight, okay? You’re way too skinny, you’ll barely make it through the night.”

Harry’s eyes grow wide and he looks from Niall’s hand up to his honest blue eyes. “I…I can’t take that.”

Niall rolls his eyes and reaches out. He grabs Harry’s wrist, circling it with one hand, and puts the money in Harry’s palm. “Of course you can. Now take it, or I swear I’ll find a way to force you to sleep on our couch tonight.”

Harry looks down at the money in complete disbelief. He’s never been given this much before, not ever. Kind people offer him help sometimes, but never like this. Harry doesn’t know how he’s supposed to thank Niall for something like this.

“If you end up wanting a place to stay, I live with my mates up the road. Here, let me give you my address.”

Niall pulls a pen out of the backpack he's wearing, writes his address down on the back of a receipt and gives it to Harry. Harry takes it, tracing his finger over the numbers there, still holding on to the money Niall’s given him.

He swallows the lump in his throat and finally asks, “Why are you doing all of this?”

Niall shrugs, as if the answer is obvious. “You’re really young. How old are you anyway, sixteen?”

 _Better than fifteen,_ Harry thinks.

“I’m seventeen,” he murmurs. He’s used to people thinking he’s a lot younger than he is, even though he grows taller and taller every day. His too short jeans can definitely attest to that.

Niall nods. “You’re seventeen, I’m eighteen-I mean, I can barely take care of myself _with_ a roof over my head. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you.”

Harry feels tears welling up in his eyes on their own accord and quickly wipes them away. “Thank you,” he sniffles, shoving the money safely into his jacket pocket. “You really have no idea what this means to me. Really.”

It’s been so long since anyone has been this nice to Hay, since someone’s looked at him with a genuine smile instead of pity, or disgust. Since someone has cared about how he feels, or how he’s going to make it through the night.

It feels nice.

Niall claps Harry on the back. “No need to thank me, mate. Tell you what, there’s a cafe about a block or so that way,” he says, pointing down the street. “They’re open real late, and they’re pretty good. Go get something to eat, yeah?”

Harry nods back and Niall smiles at him. He tightens his coat around his shoulders and turns to start walking off.

“Niall,” Harry calls before he can get too far. Niall turns around and looks at him, eyebrows raised.

Harry takes a deep breath and says, “I’m…my name is Harry.”

Niall grins and it practically takes up his whole face. It’s contagious and Harry finds himself smiling right back.

“Nice to meet ya, Harry,” he calls back.

Niall walks off and Harry waits until he turns a corner before turning around and walking to the cafe Niall told him about. Sure enough, it’s open and practically empty. Harry orders himself a cup of tea and a sandwich. He’s still hungry afterwards, but it’s absolutely nothing compared to only a few minutes ago. He can bear it, besides, he needs to save the rest of the money.

Harry stays until the cafe closes, sipping at his tea and watching the snow fall in soft tufts outside. The barista gives him a few strange looks when he just orders refills of water, but Harry doesn’t care. For the first time in ages, he’s warm and fed, and that’s all that matters.

That night Harry finds himself sleeping in yet another alleyway, backpack held tight to his chest. It takes only a few moments before he’s being covered in snow. He doesn’t mind though, not really. It beats being back home by a long shot.

Harry looks up, searching for the stars that are always impossible to see in the polluted London sky. He can’t see anything other than the dizzying swirling snow falling from above him, but he knows they’re there somehow. He soon falls asleep, huddled as close to a building as he can get, fingers and toes numb.

He dreams of a little boy with wild curly hair and bright green eyes, and of a sister with hair that falls down around her shoulders and a kind smile. They run through the snow together, tossing snowballs at one another, laughing all the while. Their cheeks are ruddy and fingers are cold, the boy has snow caught in his hair, his sister’s nose is running, but neither of them care. They’re chasing one another now, taking turns running after one another in the freshly fallen snow.

The sister finally catches the little boy, spinning him around in the air before holding him close to her and leaning down to whisper in his ear.

_I love you, Harry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me explain.
> 
> Exactly five years ago I posted the last chapter to A New Midnight. I never thought that five years later I'd have the overwhelming urge to go back and fix every mistake. My time with this fandom seems to be coming to a close very soon, and I feel like that's something others are starting to feel as well. Before we all go, I want to take the work that made me fall in love with fic and give it a second chance. It deserves far better than anything I could've done with it five years ago, and I think that revisiting it will be the perfect way to end a huge chapter in my life.
> 
> That being said, if no one is interested in this, I probably won't continue. I know this seems a little insane and probably a bit ridiculous, but it means a lot to me. Let me know if you'd like me to continue, and I will possibly post the next chapter. Also, check out the post on tumblr if you'd like to spread the news of my insanity. 
> 
> I'll see you soon.
> 
> [ rebloggable post](http://amories.tumblr.com/post/181615148697/a-new-midnight-by-amory-chapters-124-summary) | [tumblr](http://amories.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter One

Louis is woken up by the sound of his door creaking open. Hungover or not, he knows the sound of relief coming. Peeking one eye open, he sees Liam walking in, still shirtless, placing a glass of water and two painkillers on Louis’ bedside table.

“I think I might be in love with you,” Louis’ voice is scratchy with sleep and seems to startle Liam a bit. He looks over and when he sees Louis is awake, rolls his eyes.

“You’re an idiot.”

Liam leaves, not sticking around to give Louis the usual lecture. He used to do that, give Louis a long talk every morning about how the drinking and partying need to stop, but after a few years he realized it never works. Louis does not miss those talks.

Louis downs the two pills and tries desperately to remember what happened last night. The last thing he remembers is snogging some boy whose name he doesn’t know and who isn’t currently asleep beside him, so he figures he must not have done anything _too_ bad. He was out with Zayn and Liam, though, which could mean they ended up dragging him home.

Blacking out is one of the few things Louis hasn’t grown to love about drinking. Yet.

Niall is still asleep in his bed across the room when Louis heads for the shower but gone by the time he returns. Niall’s a morning person, something Louis finds absolutely disgusting. He refuses to wake up before eleven for anything other than work or school, and even then it can get a bit iffy.

Louis gets dressed and fixes his hair, determined to not look as hungover as he feels right now. Maybe if he fights the hangover this absolutely pounding headache will go away.

Zayn is in the kitchen pouring pancake batter into a pan and Niall is sitting at their little hand me down table with a mostly empty bowl of cereal in front of him when Louis enters the room.

“Mornin’ Lou,” Niall says through a mouthful of cereal. “Do you know a Harry?”

Louis barks out a laugh. “Give me a minute to wake up before asking me about my sex like, wouldya?”

Zayn laughs as well, poking at the slowly burning pancake. “Well the guy from last night was definitely not Harry,” he says, pointing the batter covered spatula at Louis. “You can count him out.”

Louis takes a seat at the table across from Niall, putting his elbows up on the table and looking at Zayn with fake excitement. “So, there _was_ a guy last night? I was wondering.”

Niall cuts through their banter with a frown and a shake of his head. “No, I mean from school. He’s a scrawny little thing, looks about twelve, but he says he’s seventeen. Kinda tall, curly hair, big doe eyes.”

Louis tries to think past his pounding headache, going through the rosters of his teaching placement in his head. “No,” he says finally. “Sorry, Ni. Why? Have you finally decided to swing the other way? Trying to go for the sixth former?”

Louis knows full well how to piss Niall off, and just as he expected, Niall scowls at him. Louis can see Zayn trying his hardest not to laugh, his shoulders shaking. Niall lets his spoon go with a clatter and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’ll have you two idiots know that I met this kid last night who’s probably homeless and gave him all of the cash I had on me.”

That does not surprise Louis at all. Niall has always been the giving type. Louis once found him sitting on the couch frantically searching for his phone while sobbing because he just _had_ to donate to the animal shelter, and _Look at their little faces, Louis!_ It’s endearing, though, as if Niall needs anything else to make him more endearing.

Liam comes walking into the kitchen, ruffling Niall’s hair as he passes by. “Good on you, Nialler,” he yawns. Niall bats him away but still grins at the praise.

Liam makes his way across the kitchen to slip his arms around Zayn’s waist. “Morning, babe,” he sighs against Zayn’s neck.

“Good morning, love,” Zayn whispers back.

The two of them are absolutely stupid in love with each other. If Louis didn’t live with them and have to deal with their love constantly, he’d probably think it’s as cute as everyone else thinks it is. But he does live with them, so he immediately starts making fake gagging noises to interrupt their little whispers. He’s rewarded with a small flick of pancake batter at his face courtesy of Zayn.

Louis gasps loudly and jumps to his feet. “Zayn! You’re going to ruin my hair!” Louis shouts. He runs his fingers carefully through his fringe, looking for any wayward batter.

“Oh, calm down Lou,” Zayn chuckles. “You’re such a drama queen.”

Louis scowls at him. “Liam, please control your boyfriend before I crack an egg in his quiff.”

Liam shrugs and just rests his head on Zayn’s back, obviously too tired for Louis’ antics. “Play nice, children,” is all he says.

“Never,” Zayn replies, sending Louis a wicked grin over his shoulder.

Louis drops the act and smiles back at him. The banter is part of the reason why Louis loves living with the boys so much. That, and the fact that they care about Louis without being too stifling. It’s nice.

“Do you all have classes today?” Niall asks. “I’m free all day, my professors got snowed in or some bullshit like that.”

Louis scoffs and sits back down at their small table. “One little snowflake and you’d think the world was ending.”

Niall grins. “You’re just bitter because you still have to go in today.”

Louis fakes a gasp, pulling a hand up to his chest and everything. “Niall, are you implying I don’t want to spend my days assistant teaching under a woman twice my age who doesn’t understand the concept of ‘gay’? I am appalled!”

Liam looks over to Louis with concern, though he doesn’t leave his place plastered to Zayn’s back. “Is she still hitting on you? You know, you should probably tell someone. Could be considered harassment.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Calm down, Li, let’s not embarrass the poor woman. There’s hardly a person alive, straight or not, who could resist my arse.”

Louis is rewarded with laughing all around at that, which certainly helps his ego.

“Besides,” he continues. “It’s only until the end of the semester, and then it’s back to actual uni classes, not spending my days with kids who don’t know the difference between Shakespeare and Robert Frost.”

“I salute your bravery,” Zayn says. “Now eat your pancakes, Liam and I have class at eight.”

Zayn flips two slightly burnt pancakes down on Louis’ plate and Louis thanks him, even if they are only a little edible. None of the rest of them have any idea how the stove works, so they kind of have to rely on Zayn’s mediocre cooking skills. Louis tries to remind himself of this fact every time he goes to yell at Zayn for all of the hair products cluttering the bathroom counter.

Louis is out the door by seven thirty and on his way to be ogled by a woman old enough to be his grandmother. His eyes and head both ache, sunglasses doing nothing to block the rays of light bouncing off the untimely snow. It’s times like this that Louis feels a bit of regret for drinking his nights away, but it’s far easier to be drunk than it is to be him.

Louis walks into the mostly deserted school that reminds him a lot of his own back home in Doncaster. It’s a bit weird being in charge of kids who are barely two years younger than him, but it’s required for his degree. He hadn’t realized that by becoming a drama teacher he’d be subjecting himself to endless hours behind a too small desk in a sixth form English class.

 _Whatever it takes,_ Louis thinks.

“Good morning, Louis!” Mrs. Baker calls from her desk when Louis enters the room. She really is a nice woman when she isn’t droning on about some terrible author or another, or staring longingly at Louis.

Louis smiles at her. “Good morning, ma’am. Test today, right?”

She nods, her glasses slipping down her hooked nose. “Yes, but I’ll only be needing you to administer it before lunch. I’ve called in a supply teacher for the rest of the day so I can get home a bit early in the snow. You should go too.”

Louis grins, happy to know he can get home early and try to sleep off this hangover. “It’s awful outside,” he says, a lie. The snow reaches maybe his ankles, and the majority of it has already been plowed off the streets and turned into brown mush. It’s really the novelty of it that has everyone so careful. It never snows this early, it’s still fall.

“Will you be needing a ride home, then?” Mrs. Baker asks, honest to god batting her eyelashes at Louis. Stifling laughter, Louis politely declines. That’s about the hundredth time she’s asked him that since he started working here in August.

Louis just has to make it through the first four hours and then he’ll be free to go home and bum around with Niall for the rest of the day. He tells himself this while he watches Mrs. Baker try and discreetly stare at him. Louis suffers through hours of reading out questions and explaining multiple times to write your name at the top of the paper. He gets plenty of “Good morning Mr. Tomlinson” and “How was your weekend, Mr. T?” from the kids, though, which reminds him why he’s really here. Even if he hates this class, he does love to teach. He can hardly wait to have his own class someday, where he definitely will not give tests like this-or show up hungover.

When noon rolls around it’s snowing again. Louis has to spend about ten minutes assuring Mrs. Baker he can walk home before he finally makes it outside. The snow is falling down fast and unceasing but Louis doesn’t regret not taking up the offer. Instead, he pulls his beanie closer down around his ears and walk slowly back to my flat.

The four of them have been living in the flat for about two years now, though Niall only came a year ago. Liam and Louis had grown up next door to one another, best friends since before either of them could remember. Moving in together during uni seemed like the natural thing to do.

Zayn came next, and Louis probably should’ve suspected something when his new English partner and his best friend volunteered to share a room in their new two bedroom flat. It took him almost a month to realize they were sleeping in the same bed, though. Finally came Niall, a big ball of energy and happiness who got on with the three of them as if he’d been there from the very beginning.

Louis would be the first to admit that it’s a little strange, but he honestly can’t imagine a life in London without his boys. They’re his family now, and he loves them.

Louis is only a few blocks from home when he hears when he swears is crying. He slows down, tugging his headphones out and looking around for the source of the sound. The quiet residential street is mostly deserted, but there it is again. A little sob. Louis looks around until he spots a small and shivering bundle of a person sitting on the cold ground, leaning against a building.

The sobbing continues as Louis steps closer, trying not to disturb whoever it is.

“Are you alright?” Louis calls.

The person continues to sob and shake. He looks so little, curled up with his arms around his knees. There’s a thin sparkling layer of snow covering his entire body. Louis immediately snaps into overprotective mode. “Hey, kid,” he says, reaching out to shake the person softly.

The boy yelps and throws his bag at Louis, trying to scramble back even further. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please just take it-please don’t hurt me,” the boy rushes out.

Louis looks down at the shabby brown backpack that’s been tossed into his hands. _What on earth is he talking about?_ Louis thinks.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Louis says softly. “Are you alright? Here, let me help you.”

Louis reaches out for the stranger’s hand. After a moment of hesitation, the boy takes it and lets Louis tug him to his feet.

He’s quite tall, and scrawny as well. His face is bruised on one side, blood dripping down his chin from either his nose or his split lip, it’s hard to tell. He’s shaking as well, and Louis isn’t sure if it’s from fear or the fact that he’s only wearing a light jacket in this cold. Either way, his hands are quaking when he grabs his backpack from Louis.

“What happened to you?” Louis asks softly, trying to let the boy know he can be trusted.

The boy continues to shake, stepping away from Louis. “I’m okay, I can take care of it,” he sniffles, his voice shaking with every word. “It’s just really c-cold.”

Without thinking twice, Louis slips off his coat and wraps it securely around the boy’s shoulders. He’s so skinny it seems like every bone of his is sticking out. He reminds Louis of a baby bird in a way, wavering a bit on his feet as if the wind might just blow him over. Louis steps forward quickly to catch him around the waist before he can fall to the ground.

“Try to keep standing, alright? Do you live here?” Louis asks, carefully brushing a messy curl out of the boy’s face. The boy shakes his head and just slumps further against Louis. Louis can tell he’s tying, and failing, to stand up straight. It breaks Louis’ heart.

“Okay, I’m going to take you to the hospital-”

The boy’s eyes fly open, bright and beautifully green, and the boy begins wildly shaking his head. “No, no, no hospital. I can’t go to the hospital. I’m fine, really I’m fine-I can’t take care of it.”

It’s obvious this is all a lie, because the boy is practically swinging around on his feet once more, holding his stomach and wincing. He doesn’t say anything other than that, though, and Louis makes a split-second decision. He can’t leave the poor kid here, his clothes are soaked through and he’s bleeding all over the place. Never mind the fact that it’s freezing out and he doesn’t look like he’s eaten in days.

Louis lugs one of the boy’s arms over his shoulder and slips on the shabby backpack. He then starts walking, ignoring the boy’s quiet noises of protests, half carrying and half dragging him down the sidewalk. Louis finds himself wishing Liam were here. He gets a lot of practice carrying Louis out of clubs and bars, he could probably lift the boy easily with those muscles of his.

It takes twice as long as it normally does to walk the rest of the way home with the boy shivering and in pain at Louis’ side. Niall opens the door when Louis knocks wearing nothing but boxers. Louis is about to scold him for answering the door that way, but he interrupts before Louis can say anything.

“Harry?” he asks, eyes widening in disbelief.

The boy at Louis’ side coughs a bit. “Niall?”

“Of course,” Louis mutters under his breath. Of course Niall’s tall skinny homeless kid would be _Louis_ _’_ tall skinny homeless kid.

Niall moves out of the doorway so Louis can drag Harry in, taking him to the couch. He lays back and Louis finally looks him over while Niall runs off the god knows where. He’s tall like Niall had said, with curls and green eyes, and everything nice. Louis would think he’s pretty fit if he weren’t currently bleeding all over the couch.

Niall soon comes running back in with a wet flannel, having had the good sense to throw some clothes on. He throws the flannel at Louis desperately.

“Isn’t your mum a nurse or something?” he asks, flustered. “You can fix him.”

Louis raises his eyebrows, surprised Niall remembered one of the few times Louis talked about his mother. “She’s the nurse, not me. Besides, she works with babies, not caring for kids who get into fist fights.”

“Wasn’t a fist fight,” Harry mutters sleepily.

Louis can’t help but smile. “Maybe not on your end, love,” he teases. He then holds the flannel over Harry’s bleeding nose, guiding Harry’s hand until he’s holding it there. Keep pressure on it, try not to fall asleep. Did you hit your head?”

Harry shrugs. “Don’t remember,” he slurs out.

Louis sighs. “Okay. We need to get you out of those clothes, Harry.”

“Jesus, Lou,” Niall hisses.

“I-I can’t. No,” Harry starts quivering, looking genuinely frightened. “I don’t have anything else, please don’t.”

For a moment Louis’ heart surges with sympathy, but he’s quickly back to business. “You need to change, love, you can’t stay in the wet clothes. You’re only going to get sicker, and since you won’t go to the hospital, I’m in charge. Niall’s going to get you something to wear and we’ll wash these clothes for you, alright?”

Harry chews on his fat lip, tears welling up. He looks up at Louis with those big teary green eyes, and Louis’ heart breaks. “Promise?” he asks softly.

Louis’s always been told he does well under pressure, but apparently he’s doing a little too well. He tries to speak softer this time, realizing he must be scaring the poor lad. “I promise. Can you sit up?”

Harry nod but still ends up slumped against Louis again. Louis makes sure Harry keeps the flannel pressed to his face while Louis carefully takes his jacket off as well as Harry’s jacket. He’s wearing only a thin t-shirt underneath that Louis can practically count his ribs through. He winces when Louis helps him take it off and Louis can clearly see why. Harry’s chest is absolutely covered with bruises, old and new, as well as a long scar reaching from just over his hip bone up across his stomach.

“In my pocket,” Harry mutters, still shivering from the cold. “For Niall.”

Louis raises his eyebrow and reaches into his jacket pocket. He pulls out a few bills, some change, and a receipt with their address written on it, and sighs. “Christ, curly, you’re going to get some incredible karma for this.”

Louis helps Harry kick his ripped jeans off just as Niall comes running back in like a chicken with his head cut off. He’s holding a large sweater, boxers, and joggers which he practically throws as Louis.

“I figured he’s about as big as Zayn, right? But like, what if he gets colder, so I brought this jumper that’s too big for Liam because I figured-”

“Niall, calm down.”

Niall nods but seems to be shaking just as much as Harry is, if not more. He doesn’t do well with injuries of any sort. “He looks really hurt, is he hurt?”

“M’fine,” Harry mumbles sleepily. “I should really go.”

Louis rolls his eyes, this kid must be delusional. “Well for one thing you’re about half naked, and for another you’re half dead, so no, you shouldn’t.”

Harry pulls the flannel away from his face and Louis nods when he sees the bleeding has stopped. Louis passes him the clothes and helps him stand up, directing him towards the hall.

“First door on the left, go on and lay down. My bed is closest to the door, use that one. God only knows how long it’s been since Niall washed his sheets,” Harry’s upper lip quirks and he lets out what could be a choked laugh. Louis smiles. “Try not to fall asleep right away, okay? I’ll be in.”

Harry ambles off towards the bedroom and Louis immediately starts rubbing at his forehead. What on earth has he gotten himself into? What will Liam and Zayn say? Louis can’t dwell on that because his thoughts are cluttered with Harry’s crying and shaking.

“Christ,” Louis whispers. “Nialler, he’s just a kid.”

“I know,” Niall replies sadly.

Louis points to the money on the couch. “He brought that for you.”

Niall chews on his lip before giving a short nod. “What can I do to help?”

Louis starts towards the kitchen, the blond boy trailing behind him like a puppy. “Call Liam and Zayn and ask them to pick up some peroxide for the cuts and some painkillers, I’m not sure how much we have left. I’m going to make him tea, and if he sleeps we have to wake him up every hour or so, just in case he has a concussion.”

“See, you do know this!” Niall sounds relieved. Louis doesn’t mention the fact that he learned all of this from his mother after stumbling home drunk after far too many bar fights as a teenager.

Louis sighs. “If he isn’t feeling better by tomorrow, I’ll drag him to the hospital by his curly little head.”

Niall agrees, leaving to go call Liam in the living room. There’s just enough hot water left in the kettle to make Harry a cup of tea which Louis brings to his room. Harry is perched on the very edge of the mattress, looking around awkwardly but not shaking as much as he was only a few moments ago. He’s slowly rocking side to side, and Louis doubts it’s on his own accord.

“Are you gonna tell us what happened?”

Harry jumps when he sees Louis. He looks up and Louis sucks in a breath. He can’t deny how cute Harry looks in the too large jumper. It hangs off his shoulder and reaches practically his fingertips. Behind everything, Louis is starting to get the feeling that Harry’s quite beautiful.

“It’s…it’s really nothing. Just some guys, they were messing with me,” Harry shrugs and looks down at his fingers. “M’sorry you’re doing this.”

Louis raises an eyebrow. “Why are you sorry? You were practically bleeding and freezing to death out there, someone would’ve stopped eventually. Besides, I think Niall might have tried to find you anyway,” Louis says, smiling slightly. “Just a warning, he gets attached very easily, he probably has it in his head that you’re best friends now.”

“Niall’s very nice.”

Harry might be adorable, but he certainly is not eloquent, especially not with a possible concussion.

Louis sits down next to him, passing him the cup of tea. “He’s the kind to bring bird with broken wings home.”

Harry thanks me for the tea and starts sipping at it slowly. Louis watches him look down at it longingly every time he takes a short measured sip and feels his heart sink.

“There’ll be more if you want it, Harry, you don’t have to do that,” Louis says.

Harry’s eyes flicker to Louis’ and Louis takes a moment to appreciate how deep green they are. He decides he quite likes that color. “Won’t your other flatmates be mad I’m here taking their clothes?” he asks, obviously changing the subject.

Louis rolls his eyes. “They’re too far up each other’s asses to notice anything-literally. Just be happy you’re on this side of the room, Niall can hear them at night.”

Harry sputters, coughing loudly through what Louis thinks is a laugh.

“I’ll be gone soon enough anyway,” he says, finally.

Louis shakes his head. “No, you have to stay the night at least.”

Harry looks at him, all bruises and glassy eyes, and raises an eyebrow. “And what if I don’t want to?”

Louis sighs. “Harry, I know that you want to. Just be glad I’m not taking you to the hospital, they’d call your parents.”

Harry nods. “Exactly.”

Louis shakes his head. “Listen, if this is some fight you’re having with your parents or something-”

“I can’t go home,” Harry’s voice is stern when he interrupts, even though he’s still sleepy and his words are slurred. “I can’t, and even if I could, I wouldn’t. I’ll be out by tomorrow.”

Louis decides to leave it for now. He takes the now empty from Harry’s hands. “Lay down, get some sleep. You can talk later.”

The boy looks at Louis in disbelief, before realizing he’s completely serious. Harry gets under the blankets and looks awkward for a moment, before Louis sighs and starts tucking the unmade blankets around his small body. He grabs Niall’s quilt as well, throwing it over Harry just in case. Once Louis is sure he’s comfortable and warm, he goes to leave.

“I don’t know your name,” a small voice calls.

Louis pauses, his hand on the doorknob. When he turns back around, he sees Harry staring at him through half lidded eyes, obviously trying to keep himself awake.

“Louis.”

Harry smiles, revealing cute little dimples. He closes his eyes and burrows deeper into the blankets until all Louis can see if a little tuft of brown curls. “You’re very pretty, Louis.” Harry’s sleepy voice reminds Louis of a child’s. Louis just nods, tempted to say the same though he knows he shouldn’t.

Instead, he just whispers back, “Goodnight, Harry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the sweet response to the last chapter. As a thank you, here's chapter one! I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think, and leave kudos if you'd like. I'll see you soon xx
> 
> [ rebloggable post](http://amories.tumblr.com/post/181615148697/a-new-midnight-by-amory-chapters-124-summary) | [tumblr](http://amories.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter Two

For the first time in a long time, Harry doesn’t dream of his sister. Instead, he dreams of fists flying towards his face, hands reaching out and grabbing at his clothes and skin. The laughing faces of the men doing it all are shadowed and blurred, until they merge together and become one. One all too familiar face.

Harry’s breathing escalates and once he realizes he’s dreaming, he starts trying to make himself wake up. He doesn’t have to try for long, though, because he can feel someone jabbing at his arm. He keeps his eyes closed, still stuck between asleep and awake, but he can hear whispering voices now.

“He _is_ pretty fit. Not as hot as Liam, though.”

“Thanks babe.”

“Would you quit poking at him? Christ, how old are you, four?”

The jabbing soon stops and is quickly replaced with soft hands brushing at Harry’s forehead. Warm breath hits his ear and Harry sighs when the hands continue brushing across his skin, eventually reaching up into his hair. “Harry? Wake up, love,” a sing song voice calls.

“Oh god. What if he’s dead?”

Harry recognizes the voice this time, loud and Irish, and tries to put a name to it. That’s when last night comes rushing back to him, and that day, the fight, curling up into a ball and deciding to die right there on the sidewalk, Louis finding him and carrying him home where Niall was waiting. Conveniently enough that was the entire reason Harry was back in the neighborhood, just to give Niall his money back.

Harry blinks his eyes open slowly, meeting two bright and impossibly blue ones staring right back. “Louis,” he remembers. “Am I dead?”

Louis laughs and pushes a curl out of Harry’s eyes. “If you’re about to suggest I’m an angel, I may actually hit you, concussion or not,” he grins down at Harry once more before turning to the side. “See Niall, he’s alive. I told you I knew what I was doing.”

“Well, I’d forgive him for being nervous, Lou, seeing as how you just spent the last twenty minutes on Wikihow,” a different voice chimes in.

Louis, who is kind of looking angelic now that Harry thinks about it, sighs exasperatedly. “Does it matter where I got the information?” he asks, tilting his head so that the lamp light casts shadows over his sharp cheekbones and tanned skin. Harry finds his fuzzy brain wondering how on earth Louis manages to be so beautiful. His fingers itch to run over Louis’ face, just to be sure this is real and not a dream.

“Well yeah it does. He could’ve died or something!” Niall comes into focus now, fidgeting around next to the bed. When he sees Harry looking at him, he stands up straighter and starts babbling.

“Harry, I’m _so_ sorry, this is all my fault! I should’ve made you come with me last night-”

“Did you get the money back?” Harry asks, thinking of how ironic it would be if he came all this way and didn’t even get Niall back the money like he planned to. Then again, that is Harry’s sort of luck.

Niall just stares at him in disbelief, so Harry elaborates. “I didn’t use it all, so I thought I’d better give the rest back. It was too much in the first place.”

Niall pales, his jaw going slack. Finally, he says, “Harry, keep the money.”

Harry shakes his head as best he can while one half of his face is pressed against a pillow. “No, s’okay, promise. Did I thank you?” His voice is scratchy and his head and mouth feel like they’ve been stuffed to the brim with cotton. He should be used to this feeling by now, waking up after having the shit beat out of him, but he’s really not.

“You thanked me, remember?”

Harry thinks hard and nods when it comes back to him, the night before when Niall had given him the money. Things are still somewhat groggy for him, but he hasn’t been knocked in the head so hard that he’s forgotten everything. He guesses that’s a good thing.

Louis and Niall start bickering quietly about something while Harry finds himself sinking back into sleep. He can’t remember the last time he got a full nights sleep, or slept in a bed. The blankets are so warm and Louis’ hands are absentmindedly carding through Harry’s curls and before Harry realizes what’s going on he’s being shaken awake again.

“Oh no you don’t, sit up,” Louis chides. “You need to stay up for a little bit, take a shower, take some medicine, eat something. Besides, Liam and Zayn are here, remember them?”

Harry can feel himself blushing at the memory of coming home with Louis. If it’s anything like he thinks it was, he broke down and cried in front of two people he hardly knows. “I’m wearing their clothes,” he blurts out.

“Yeah, but don’t worry, they look better on you anyway,” Louis says, before letting out a gasp of pain. Harry opens his eyes and sees the other man rubbing at his shoulder and scowling. “Li, babe, you have to calm down with that punch. You’re twice the size of me, you know.”

Taking a breath, Harry pushes himself up until he’s in a sitting position. He rubs at his eyes, waiting for the room to come back into focus. “What time is it?” he mumbles.

“Almost nine,” Niall says. “Louis kept coming in here to wake you up to make sure you weren’t dead.”

“Thanks,” Harry says, smiling just a bit though he’s still half asleep.

Eventually his vision clears enough so that he can take a look around. The room is fairly big considering where the flat is. There are two beds, the other one Harry guesses is Niall’s, and books and papers shoved up against the walls and around the floor. A guitar sits precariously on a stack of books. It’s strange and cluttered, but cozy all the same.

“Harry, this is Liam and this is Zayn,” Louis says, pointing to each one of the men standing beside him respectively. “They’re disgustingly adorable, and you’ll probably get a cavity just watching them speak to one another.”

Liam, the one with the big puppy dog eyes that Harry immediately takes to, smiles at him. “Never believe a word Louis says,” he says simply.

The other boy, Zayn, pulls his boyfriend closer by the waist and laughs. Harry understands what Louis meant, just watching the two of them stand together makes Harry feel like he’s intruding on something private. That’s when it hits him that he _is_ intruding. It’s taken him only a few hours to break basically every rule he’s set for himself in the past six months.

“I should get going,” he says, startling everyone else. “Thank you so much for letting me sleep here, it really means a lot to me.”

Louis, who has yet to move from the bed beside him, studies Harry closely. “But it’s late,” he says, sounding absolutely bewildered by Harry’s statement.

 _Why should he care that it_ _’s late?_ Harry wonders. _He hardly knows me, he shouldn_ _’t be worried about me._

“Yeah, it’ll be easier to find somewhere to sleep, most people move around at night,” Harry says, looking down at his fingers in his lap, refusing to meet their eyes. He can feel them all staring at him, though, which causes the back of his neck to sweat and his face to go beat red. He’s spent half a year being ignored, being invisible, having all of this attention feels alien and wrong.

“But you have somewhere to sleep,” Niall says, sounding like a kicked puppy, and Harry knows that if he were to look up Niall’s big baby blue eyes would be staring right back.

“Like I said, it’s um, it’s really nice of all of you. Really, I,” Harry stops and takes a deep breath to try and steady himself and stop stuttering. “It’s too much. I should go.”

There’s silence in the room for a moment, followed by whispers and shuffling movements, and finally the door clicking shut. He looks up, expecting everyone to be gone, but instead finds Louis staring at him. His eyebrows are furrowed, making his blue eyes appear darker, but no less striking.

“You know, I’m at uni to become a teacher,” he says conversationally. “A drama teacher.”

Harry nods, unsure of what he should say. “That’s, um, that’s great.”

Louis nods back. “Yeah, so I’m kind of an expert when it comes to lying, and Harry you are a terrible actor. I hope I haven’t crushed any dreams.”

Harry tries to stop it, but ends up grinning anyway. “I hadn’t planned on it,” he replies.

“That’s good,” Louis’ upper lip quirks slightly and Harry knows he’s trying his hardest not to smile back. “So, since I know you don’t really want to leave, and since I’m the oldest here and this shit kind of falls to me, I’m going to ask you what happened. So-what happened?”

“Just some guys,” Harry says, trying to downplay it. “They caught me going through a dumpster and I guess they thought it would be funny to have a go at me. It really wasn’t that big of a deal.”

Louis sighs and steps forward a bit like he might reach out to touch Harry, but thinks better of it. “Harry, it _is_ a big deal. You should go to the police, they can help you.”

That sends a jolt of fear up Harry’s spine. He looks at Louis, eyes wide, and shakes his head. “No, I can’t. Please tell me you didn’t call them.”

Louis looks confused but shakes his head. Harry takes a deep breath and nods just to himself. There’s silence then, the only sound coming from the analog clock above Niall’s bed, and the murmurings from outside the door. It should feel awkward but Harry’s far too busy trying to calm himself down to worry about that.

“Where are you from?” Louis asks, and Harry could kiss him for not prying.

“Cheshire.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Where abouts in Cheshire?”

Harry doesn’t answer.

“Do you have any family here, or are they all back in Cheshire?”

Again, no answer. He can tell Louis is getting frustrated but he can’t let anything slip through, god forbid Louis calls the police, or worse.

Louis groans and rubs his hands over his face. “You have nowhere else to go?”

Harry doesn’t want to answer that either, but the answer seems obvious. “You don’t need to worry about me,” he says. “I’m fine. I’m really none of your concern-”

“No, Harry, you are my concern now because you’re seventeen years old, you have nowhere to go, nowhere to live, and now you’ve found your way into my flat. You’re sitting here telling me not to worry about you, but how can I not? You won’t let me call your parents, you won’t let me take you to the hospital, and when I suggest calling the police you practically have a heart attack. So, please explain to me how I’m not supposed to be concerned.”

Harry winces when Louis raises his voice, but Louis is too worked up to notice. He runs both hands through his hair, somehow managing to make his windswept fringe look even better than before. He finally looks back at Harry again, and swears under his breath.

“I’ll make you a deal.”

Harry’s eyes widen in shock. He had expected Louis to throw him out, maybe yell at him some more, he hadn’t expected that. “What kind of a deal?” Harry asks, his voice quivering.

Louis sits back up, fixing his hair as he does so. “Since you only have the clothes that you gave me, you can stay until they’re done being washed. If you still want to leave when they’re clean, you can, if you don’t want to, you can stay. Deal?”

Harry thinks it over. What harm can it do, really, for him to stay just a bit longer in a warm flat. He finally nods and says, “Yeah, alright.”

Louis grins. “Great! Liam is going to make something to eat, you can take a shower if you want,” he pats Harry’s shoulder and goes to leave before he seems to remember something.

“Wait, here take this,” Louis passes him a towel that was sitting folded on the edge of the bed. “As much as I’d like to gawk at your body all day, the rest of them probably wouldn’t appreciate it. Spoil sports.” He winks at Harry before leaving the room.

Harry is left staring at him, his eyebrows raised. He doesn’t understand how Louis can go from completely serious to this person at the drop of a hat. It fills Harry with a nagging sense of nostalgia for his sister, and he finds himself subconsciously looking for his backpack. When he spots it next to the closet door, he lets out a sigh of relief. That’s all he has, everything he brought that he holds dear. He walks across the room and picks it up.

There isn’t much in the bag, just a hoodie he used to wear until the right sleeve completely ripped off, a few protein bars, his old baby blanket, and finally his pictures. He pulls the stack out, everything he’d been able to grab before he left in a hurry in the middle of the night. There aren’t a lot, but they still mean everything to him.

Harry finally comes to the picture he’s looking for, the one of himself and his sister on his eighth birthday party, the last birthday with his mum. His sister has one arm wrapped around Harry’s shoulder and they’re both wearing large grins while the candles on the cake in front of them light up their faces. Harry smiles down at it, tracing his sister’s huge grin with the tip of his finger. He wishes so much that she was here. She would’ve listened while Harry told her about how beautiful Louis’ eyes are, she would’ve sat with him and made them tea while they watched crappy daytime television.

“Niall, don’t touch that!” A shout jolts Harry back to reality.

Harry puts his pictures away carefully in his bag and walks out of Louis’ room and into the hall. There are three more doors, one of which reveals a neater bedroom with just one bed, the second of which is a bathroom.

Harry flicks the lights on and groans when he catches sight of himself in the mirror. He looks horrible, and it’s not just the bruises, though there is a rather large one of the right side of his face. His bones seem to stick out everywhere, and when he lifts the sweater off, he can see his hip bones jutting out as well as his ribs.

Harry looks himself over again, tracing his scar with his index finger. Just touching it brings back bad memories of screaming, breaking glass, shouting, and bright lights. He has to catch himself on the counter of the sink, counting the seconds as he breathes in and out slowly.

“It’s over,” he whispers to himself, needing the reminder.

His shower is quick. He wishes he could’ve made it last longer, but he can smell the food and finds himself speeding up without even thinking about it. It feels good to get all the dirt off and finally wash his hair, though, to feel less like a dingy and disgusting rat and more like a real person.

When he walks out into the living room, his curls still dripping onto the collar of the jumper he’s wearing, all the chattering stops. Louis and Zayn are sitting on one of the couches watching television while Niall and Liam hover around in the kitchen. Niall sees him coming and grins like an idiot.

“Harry,” he practically shouts. “You stayed!”

“Just for a little while,” Harry replies.

Niall obviously ignores this and instead opts to run across the room to hug him. Harry winces when his strong arms come into contact with the bruises under the jumper.

“Nialler, be careful, he’s hurt,” Liam chides.

Niall pulls back and looks Harry over with concern in his eyes. “Are you hurt? I’m so sorry, Harry, I feel like this is my fault. We should all find those and kill them.”

“Yeah, because we’re intimidating,” Zayn speaks up, not looking away from the television. “Lou could lead us, we could snap through the alleys like what’s it called.”

“West Side Story?” Louis offers. “When you’re a Jet, you’re a Jet all the way.”

He sings the last part loudly, throwing his arms out and waving the beer bottle in his hand all around. Harry notices a couple other bottles around the couch and wonders if he’s drunk already, or if this is just a normal behavior for a Monday fight.

Zayn laughs as well, pushing Louis by the shoulder. “Yeah, that one. We’d be proper New York gangsters.”

“I can’t even snap,” Niall says it solemnly, as if this is a tragic realization.

Liam must notice that Harry looks lost because he motions for Harry to come to the kitchen. “I’m warming up this pizza since none of us can cook, do you want anything else? A beer or something?” Without waiting for an answer, he reaches into the fridge and passes Harry a water bottle that he gladly accepts.

“No, this is fine, I-thank you.”

Harry doesn’t understand why everyone is being so nice to him. He’s only known them for a little under an hour. He thinks that most people if they ever invited a homeless kid into their flat would probably be more worried about him stealing something than making sure he gets enough to eat.

Liam frowns slightly, but nods. “Alright-whatever you need, though, you can have. Here, take some crisps or an apple or something.”

“Would you stop trying to feed him, Li? You sound like your mum,” Louis calls.

“Have you seen him, he’s wasting away!” Liam shouts back. He then looks at Harry and shrugs. “No offense, Harry.”

Harry barks out a laugh that he covers with his hand just as quickly as it starts. He feels a blush growing around his fingertips and looks around to see everyone else laughing now as well. His eyes come to rest on Louis who smiles at him and takes a long sip of beer.

“Cute.”

That one little quip has Harry’s face practically burning. Maybe if he’s lucky they’ll all just think his face is naturally that color. Louis smirks and turns back to the television where they seem to be watching a football match.

“C’mon, you can watch with us while Dad finishes the pizza,” Niall says, leading Harry towards an empty spot on the couch by the arm.

Liam scoffs but goes back to the kitchen anyway. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Only I’m allowed to call him that,” Zayn says with a devilish grin.

Louis makes a choking sound and spits beer out of his mouth. Zayn is so lost in convulsive laughter he hardly noticed when Louis hits him over the head with a couch cushion.

“You get used to it,” Niall mutters, though he’s grinning now as well.

Harry ends up between Niall and the end of the couch, sitting as close to the edge as he can get without ending up on the floor. The four boys are nice, but Harry can’t let himself become friend with them, or even acquaintances really. There are certain things friends want to know that just happen to fall under the list of things Harry can’t tell anyone. That’s one of the reasons why he ended up alone out here, not making friends, or even finding someone who could help him survive. He’s grown used to not having anyone, he can depend on himself, and he must because sooner or later everyone leaves-even when they promise not to.

“So, Harry,” Zayn breaks the silence. Well, Louis had been swearing under his breath at the football game, but other than that it was silent. Harry turns and sees Zayn’s studying him from the other end of the couch. “You’re seventeen, right?”

“Down, boy,” Louis mutters.

Zayn rolls his eyes but waits for an answer. Harry clears his throat and says, “I’ll be eighteen in February,” he says, hoping it makes him sound older even though it’s barely September.

“Aren’t your parents worried about you? Or do they just not care that their seventeen-year-old is homeless in London with no food, or clothes, or a place to sleep?”

“Zayn,” Niall hisses.

Harry shakes his head, waving Niall off. “They um…” he trails off, trying to decide the best way to say it. “They don’t know where I am.”

Zayn is obviously still confused. “Well, aren’t they looking for you?”

Harry shrugs, trying to force the lie through with genuine nonchalance. “Maybe, I don’t know.”

Liam comes into the room with the now cooked pizza and a few plates. No one pushes Harry any further or even mentions it, but Harry can feel Louis’ curious eyes on him while he reaches for a slice. Niall immediately jumps into conversation about Harry’s favorite foods, sports, beer, and basically anything else that pops into his mind. Louis soon joins in on the questioning until the cuddling Liam and Zayn shush them.

Harry’s on his third piece of pizza when Louis informs him that his clothes are in the dryer. The thought of leaving now seems incredibly unpleasant, but Harry just thanks him and continues to watch television and eat. After his clothes are dry, it becomes he’ll leave when the game is over, after that he decides he can stay for a beer or two, and it keeps going until it’s eventually settled on that he’ll leave in the morning.

“I am going to leave in the morning,” he informs Louis, who hasn’t stopped grinning at Harry since he agreed to this.

Liam and Zayn had gone to bed first, Liam having to practically carry his sleepy boyfriend to the bedroom. Niall followed soon after, saying his goodnight through loud yawns. Louis stayed up with Harry while he found something else to eat from the fridge and shared another beer.

“Sure you are,” Louis smiles at him before heading to the hall.

He drank quite a lot if all the empty bottles are anything to go by, but he doesn’t seem to be drunk at all. He soon returns with an armful of blankets and pillows which he tosses onto the end of the couch unceremoniously.

“I’m going to sleep here,” he announces. “You can take the bed.”

Harry waits for Louis to laugh, but he doesn’t. He’s completely serious. Harry frowns. “Louis, no. I’m not taking your bed.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Don’t be a twat, okay? You’re hurt, you’re the guest, take the bed.”

“No,” Harry says firmly, crossing his arms for good measure. “Either you shut up and let me take the couch, or I swear I’ll walk out right now.”

Louis and Harry lock eyes. It’s obvious Louis is trying to challenge him, but there’s no way Harry is going to back down. When Louis finally sees he’s getting nowhere, he throws his hands up and sighs.

“God, you’re about as fucking stubborn as Zayn,” he mutters. Harry just smiles back and Louis shakes his head. “Fine, but don’t come complaining to me when Niall wakes you up at the crack of dawn.”

“Trust me, I won’t.”

Louis’ expression turns sad, and Harry cringes when he realizes he’s just made the talk serious. He wouldn’t dare complain about any of this, especially not the bed, or lack thereof. Not after spending half a year sleeping in the same dirty clothes huddled up in the dark, not sure where to go next.

Louis helps Harry make a bed out of the couch and leaves when Harry lays down under the blankets. He closes his eyes and sighs against the pillow that Louis must have taken from his bed, because it smells like him, like sandalwood cologne and laundry soap.

“Hey, Curly?”

“Yeah?”

Harry opens his eyes once more and looks over to find Louis staring at him from the hall. His eyes are shining in the dark, even from this far away, as though he’s been crying. Louis looks Harry over and sighs.

“I know…I know that it can be hard, with your parents and all that. I’m not trying to say that I understand your situation at all. I’m not actually sure what I’m trying to say at all, to be honest. Just don’t give up, okay?”

Harry bites his lip, trying to decide what to say back. There are so many things he wants to say, so many things he knows he shouldn’t say, but he finally decides on, “Did you?”

Louis tilts his head in question. Harry picks at a loose string on the duvet to stop his hands from shaking.

“Give up, I mean,” he elaborates.

Louis grins, that drunk sort of grin when you’re sad, but still so far gone that it doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters anymore. “Yeah,” Louis replies, running a hand through his fringe that’s been partially stuck down now. “Yeah, I guess I did. Sleep well, Harry.”

“Goodnight, Louis.”

Harry watches Louis go, stumbling slightly towards the room, and finds himself wondering how anyone like Louis could give up on themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ rebloggable post](http://amories.tumblr.com/post/181615148697/a-new-midnight-by-amory-chapters-124-summary) | [tumblr](http://amories.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter Three

The first thing that comes to Louis’ mind when he wakes up to the smell of bacon is that Zayn must’ve finally burnt his hair off with his straightener. However, when he notices no one yelling and that even Niall is still in bed, he figures he’s probably wrong.

The stupid clock that Niall insisted he needed says it’s only six in the morning. Louis considers going back to sleep for another hour or so, but the smell of bacon is too tempting to ignore. Louis pulls back the blankets and pads out of his room and into the kitchen. He’s immediately jolted awake by what he finds there.

Harry, shirtless in their kitchen.

Harry is shirtless and cooking in their kitchen.

Louis’ sense of decency is the only thing that stops his jaw from dropping at the sight. Harry just looks so soft and inviting, curls tossed from sleep, borrowed sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his waist. Louis gets the overwhelming urge to come up behind Harry, wrap his arms around his waist like Liam does with Zayn. Louis wants to feel Harry’s skin under his fingertips, press little kisses to the base of his neck where the soft baby hairs meet skin and- _what?_

Louis needs to get it together.

He shakes his head, pushing those traitorous thoughts out of his mind.

“You do realize it’s six in the morning, right?” he asks, hoping the joke will take his mind off of Harry’s body.

Harry lets out a cute little yelp and whirls around. “Louis,” he breathes heavily. “You scared me!”

Louis bites back a smile. “Sorry. What are you doing awake?” Louis tries not to focus on how the bruises on Harry’s face are fading, only emphasizing how attractive he is. He also notices a scar across Harry’s stomach, but it’s half hidden by the many bruises on his skin.

Harry looks down at his feet and shrugs. “I, um, I just thought I’d make breakfast. I’m sorry, I should’ve asked before just taking the food-”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Louis says, sounding a bit like he’s trying to calm a frightened animal. “None of us can cook anyway. Well, Zayn tries, but it’s never any good. What are you making?”

Louis walks closer to the stove and sees a plate of bacon, potatoes, and a few cooling eggs. There are more eggs in the pan that Harry’s poking at as well as bread popping up in the toaster. Louis raises his eyebrows and lets out an impressed whistle.

“Jesus, kid, you’ve really gone all out,” Louis chuckles.

Harry blushes, as if he could get anymore adorable. “I just wanted to say thank you, for letting me stay here. My-my sister taught me how to cook as a kid. I like it,” Harry says hesitantly, almost like he regrets sharing the information as soon as it’s out.

Maybe it is, considering the fact that Louis doesn’t even know his last name.

Louis shrugs and knocks his hip against Harry’s. “Well, no complaints here. Looks amazing.”

Harry flips an egg over and then pokes at a few more pieces of bacon he’s put on. “I kinda figured you’d be hungover,” he admits.

And, okay, that’s kind of adorable. Harry, who hardly knows Louis, has made this giant breakfast worthy of a giant hangover just for Louis.

Louis smiles and pats his curls affectionately. “Trust me, it takes a lot more than a few beers to get me drunk anymore.”

Harry frowns at that, but just shakes his head and goes back to cooking.

After pouring himself a glass of orange juice, Louis takes a seat at the kitchen table where he can get the best angle of Harry cooking. He doesn’t think he’s ever found himself this attracted to someone’s back before.

“Is he cooking?”

Liam is standing in the doorway of the kitchen now, a confused look on his face. Louis motions for him to come sit down, which he does, but only after staring at Harry in disbelief for a little while longer.

 “He hasn’t burnt a single thing yet,” Louis says. “You should wake your boyfriend up so he can come and watch. Maybe he’ll learn a thing or two.”

Liam kicks Louis under the table. “Shut up, at least Zayn tries,” he says. His fingers latch onto the sleeves of the jumper he’s wearing, and Louis realizes it belongs to Zayn. Liam smiles a bit just to himself, and Louis is once again a bit sick at how cute they are.

“And Harry succeeds.”

Louis can see the blush on Harry’s cheeks from across the room. He’s not sure he’d mind too much keeping that blush there.

“You haven’t even tried it yet, it could be absolute rubbish,” Harry teases.

Louis pulls a face and shakes his head. “It’d still be better than Zayn’s, trust me.”

Liam rolls his eyes and Louis spots Harry grinning again. He deems that a success.

“So, Harry,” Liam starts, obviously trying to change the subject. “The rest of us all have class today, even though I swear Niall never goes, the bastard-but you’re going to be here by yourself for a few hours and-”

“I was going to leave after I ate, if that’s okay,” Harry interrupts. “Where are the plates?”

Liam frowns, not pleased with that response. “Above the sink. Harry you really don’t have to go. You’re more than welcome to stay here.”

Harry starts piling food onto the plates he’s spread out, not looking up when he says, “I can’t stay, though, we both know that. So I might as well leave, get it over with.” He shoots the two of them a smile over his shoulder that isn’t returned.

Harry sits down at the table, passing a plate to Liam and Louis and picking at his own. Louis takes a bite and moans so loud that Harry shoots him a strange look. Louis just winks at him, before saying thank you and shoving as much bacon as possible into his mouth. He has to hand it to Harry, the kid can cook.

Niall wanders in next, looking even more confused than he normally does when he wakes up. He doesn’t refuse the food, though, as if he ever would, and decides this presents another opportunity for him to crowd Harry as much as possible.

“Are you sure you don’t have a crush on him, Ni?” Louis asks. He’s definitely not jealous that Harry is smiling and hugging Niall back. Niall rolls his eyes and plants a loud and wet kiss to Harry’s cheek for good measure.

“I can appreciate a good lad when I meet one. Especially if he can cook,” Niall says, still crowding Harry while the poor boy tries to eat. Louis lets out a loud laugh and Niall tosses a piece of potato at his face.

“I’m the only straight man left in this house,” Niall bemoans. “What about you, Harry?”

Louis sees Harry stiffen up out of the corner of his eye. He looks around at the three of them like they might attack him or something. He’s obviously uncomfortable, and starts to tug on a stray curl before bringing his finger up to his lip and pulling at the skin of his knuckle with his teeth.

Louis shoots Niall at look. “Ni,” he warns.

Niall sits fully in his own chair, looking displeased with himself. “Sorry, Harry, I didn’t mean…I’m sorry.”

There’s awkward silence, broken only by the sound of scraping forks against plates and Zayn’s alarm going off. Finally, Liam says something. It’s always Liam, he’s the sensible one of their group, always has been. Louis can distinctly remember Liam laying out the pros and cons of Louis punching a kid who had the nerve to make fun of Liam when they were in primary school. The cons obviously outweighed the pros, but Liam lost that particular battle.

“Harry, we’re the last people on earth that would ever judge you for anything. I mean, have you seen Louis?” Liam teases.

“Shut up, Liam,” Louis replies with a smile. Harry stops tugging on his finger and smiles back, all goofy and happy. Louis points at him with his fork and says, “You should smile more, curly.”

Harry looks down at his food, bites his lip, and then says, “I’m, um, bisexual. I guess.” He stumbles through the sentence like the words are hard to get out. Finally, he looks to Louis as if it’s a question and he wants an answer, so Louis nods for him discreetly.

Niall lets out a loud whooping noise and pats Harry hard on the back. “Finally,” he exclaims, pieces of egg going everywhere. “Someone to pull girls with. They’ll stop giving me that, ‘But what happened to your friend Zayn?’ thing whenever I try to buy them a drink.”

Louis laughs. “Yeah, now it’ll be ‘But what happened to your friend Harry, you know, the tall attractive one with his natural hair color.’”

This sets everyone off laughing, except Niall who throws his hands in the air.

“Shut up, all of you, my hair looks better this way. Leave me alone.”

They don’t stop laughing, but Niall seems to be resigned to his fate and turns his attention back to the food.

Zayn is the last to arrive, eyes still half closed and wearing only a shirt and boxers. He looks around the room, taking them all in with his lazy gaze. The first words out of his mouth are, “Lou, you’re sober. Are those eggs?” and then he proceeds to ignore the last chair and take a seat on Liam’s lap.”

“Zayn, you’re making a horrible impression on Harry,” Louis says.

 Zayn looks up and sees Harry trying to pass hi a plate. “I don’t think he cares,” he says. “Do you care, Harry?”

Harry shrugs. “No. I usually sleep naked, honestly.”

He sets the plate down in front of Zayn with a cheeky smile, while Louis practically chokes to death on his toast. This boy is going to be the death of him, he already knows it.

“I um, I was going to take a shower, if that’s okay?” Harry’s voice is back to timid and shy. “I’ll clean the dishes when I’m done, and be out right after that, I promise.”

“No, don’t worry about the dishes, Harry,” Louis says a little too quickly, really wanting Harry and his fantastic body away from where he’s inhaling and killing himself eating breakfast. Harry nods and takes his empty plate to the sink before leaving, but not before shooting the four of them a look as if they might take it all back.

Louis finds himself watching Harry go until he disappears into the hallway and all that’s left is silence. And then Liam starts.

“Louis,” he starts.

“Shut up, Liam.”

“Louis, you know how you get,” Liam says, reaching out and grasping Louis’ hand.

Of course Liam knows how he gets, he’s been Louis’ best friend since they were six, he knows almost everything about Louis. But just because Harry is extremely attractive and has an adorable smile doesn’t mean he’s going to do anything about it. Probably.

Louis rolls his eyes and snatches his hand away. “Don’t worry about it, I don’t even like him.”

The three of them give Louis a look in unison, all with eyebrows raises, all looking disapproving. It’s almost scary.

“You were staring at him like he was a meal,” Niall points out.

“Well, he made the meal. I was just appreciating it.”

“He’s fit,” Zayn says next.

Louis rolls his eyes. “Just because a fit guy happens to find his way into our kitchen doesn’t mean that my first reaction is to want to fuck him. Christ.”

Louis pushes his chair away angrily and starts washing dishes to keep himself busy. He never washes the dishes, and he remembers why as soon as his fingers brush wet food. He feels as though he might puke all over his friend’s stupid knowing faces.

Liam is the one to set him off, but then again he always is. He’s right more often than not, and that pisses Louis off.

“Louis, just be careful, yeah? You fall hard fast, you know that. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

A spoon goes clattering into the sink and Louis braces himself against the counter.

“Would you all just _shut up_?” he growls. “I’m 19 years old, I can take care of myself. I don’t need you idiots on my back, trying to tell me to stay away from some _kid_. As if I would ever sink that low for a quick fuck.”

“Louis,” Niall hisses.

Of course none of that is true. Louis doesn’t think Harry would be nothing more than a quick fuck, he doesn’t think it would be sinking low. He barely knows this boy, but he already knows it wouldn’t be either of those things. But of course Harry doesn’t know this, and Harry is also apparently standing in the doorway looking for a towel for his wet hair.

Louis feels himself pale when he turns around. “I-shit. Harry-”

Harry grins, he fucking grins, dimples and everything. “It’s alright, I’m gonna go ahead and go, yeah? Thanks for everything, honestly. I’ll see you around.”

And that’s it. Harry slips the ratty jumper in his hands over his head and leaves, stopping only to grab the backpack he left near the couch. He leaves like it’s nothing, like it’s not freezing outside, like he won’t be sleeping in an alley tonight, like Louis hasn’t just said awful things about him in front of everyone.

Time seems to pause for a moment before Louis comes to his senses.

“Harry!” he shouts, running out of the kitchen and towards the door. He’s gone, though, the only trace of him is the old woman next door yelling at Louis as he goes back inside.

“I see you chasing these boys out of your flat every morning!” she scolds in her shrill voice. “I have half a mind to call-”

“Oh, fuck off!”

Zayn grabs Louis by the forearm and jerks him back inside. He quickly apologizes to their neighbor and then practically drags Louis over to the couch. When Louis tries to get up, Zayn points at him menacingly.

“Hey! Just because you’re pissed off doesn’t mean you get to harass the neighbors. Sit down,” his voice booms throughout the flat and leaves deafening silence behind it. Zayn closes his eyes for a moment and pulls a hand through his hair. “Louis, I love you, you know that I do, but you just-”

“It’s fine,” Louis says, standing up once again. “I need to go to work anyway. It’s fine, we barely knew him. Sorry for shouting.”

 Zayn frowns and turns to the other boys who are watching from the kitchen. “Lou,” he says softly.

“I’ll see you after class,” Louis says, and with that he goes back into his room to get dressed as quickly as possible. He pulls a beanie on in lieu of actually doing his hair. He doubts that’s actually allowed in school, but he doesn’t think Mrs. Baker would say anything about it. He makes sure to turn his music up as loud as possible so that when he slips out of the flat, he can’t hear anyone calling him back.

During his walk to school, Louis finds himself looking around for Harry. He doesn’t understand how Harry’s managed to make such an impression on him. He’s not the type of person to make friends easily. Maybe it’s that smile, that has to be it. Those fucking dimples. Either way, Louis ends up practically attacking every man he sees with curls because he’s completely lost it by now.

Mrs. Baker stares at him curiously all day before finally speaking up. “Louis, are you feeling alright?”

Louis is sat at the small desk he’s claimed for himself, helping to grade the tests done the day before. All the students have gone home, and Louis would normally be as well, but he can’t face his flatmates. Not yet.

Louis gives her his best fake smile, wondering how on earth she’s noticed this and not the fact that he’s come in hungover almost every day.

“I’m fine, probably just a stomach bug,” he lies. Mrs. Baker’s eyes grow wide at this and she starts to insist that Louis goes home at once to rest. Louis just smiles and shakes his head before going back to the tests.

“Why don’t you take tomorrow off, dear?” she finally offers. Mrs. Baker is mostly ogling him, but then again she seems to always be, but she seems sincere. Something clicks in Louis’ brain and he starts a hacking cough.

“You know what?” he croaks out, taking it over the top. “If that’s okay, I think I might.”

Mrs. Baker waves her hands around as if warding off Louis’ sickness. “Of course dear!” she says. “Will you be needing a ride home? You really shouldn’t walk in weather like this when you’re sick.”

Louis shakes his head and smiles. “No, my flatmate is coming round to pick me up,” he says, which is a total lie because none of them have cars, he lives within walking distance, and he’s not going home until very late tonight.

Louis finishes up the last of the tests halfheartedly, probably giving out more A’s than are deserved, excitement coursing through his veins at the thought of tonight. It’s hardly five in the afternoon when he finds himself in a pub ordering round after round of pints.

Louis isn’t sure when the drinking started. Well that’s not entirely true. He can’t remember the exact _day_ that he decided to drink himself numb, but he wishes he did so he could celebrate in his morbid way. He does remember all the days leading up to it. He remembers coming home late at night to his sisters crying, he remembers fighting with his mother, he remembers Liam who was always there, even when Louis told him he hated him. Of course Liam never left, though, and he never said anything to the other boys about it, which Louis is eternally grateful for. But not even Liam knows the whole story.

“I’m such a piece of shit,” Louis says out loud. Because he is, really. He said all that about Harry, and now he’s god knows where, probably freezing to death. He treats all of his friends like shit even when they’re only trying to help. He hasn’t even tried to fix the relationship between himself and his mother, or his sisters. His sisters, god, they have to be so much older now.

“I’m such a piece of shit,” Louis says again, mostly mumbling now.

For some reason, he starts laughing, blowing bubbles into the beer with his lips. The bartender is saying something to him that he can’t understand because he’s laughing too hard. Suddenly, there are large burly hands on his shoulders, showing him to the door and out onto the street where it’s dark now.

“Beer was shit anyway!” Louis slurs out, raising a fist in the air like an angry old man, which sets him off laughing again. He starts walking, almost entirely sure there’s a club in this general area. He starts to wonder if they’ll let him in like this, but it’s a Tuesday night, so he figures he might as well try.

Louis must black out because the next think he knows he’s in the club, which is surprisingly busy, drink in hand, dancing with some boy. He surges towards Louis as the music picks up, rolling his hips against Louis’ body and biting softly on his earlobe.

“What’s your name?” he asks, shouting over the music.

Louis laughs because that’s the same thing Harry asked him. He pulls back and shakes his head at the other man.

“Not important.”

With that, Louis downs the rest of his drink, sets it down on the nearest flat surface, and dances with him. It isn’t so much dancing as it is just trying to get one another off through their jeans. But that’s what clubs are for…at least that’s what Louis has always used them for. Hasn’t he? He can’t remember, really, he’s had so many drinks.

“Come back to mine?” the man growls in his ear. It doesn’t sound like a question. His lips trace a path from Louis’ ear down to his neck where he latches on and leaves what’ll probably be a massive bruise, but Louis doesn’t care right now. The only things that matter right now are the man’s lips and his arms and hands and thighs.

“Yeah, okay,” Louis hardly knows what he’s saying anymore.

The man links their hands and starts dragging them off of the dance floor and out of the club. Louis’ mind clears for a moment and he realizes what’s happening, but he doesn’t care. In all honestly, he probably deserves a one night stand that’ll end in an awkward _I_ _’m going to need you to leave soon,_ a fake number, and money for a cab. Louis deserves the feeling of his heart sinking deep into his stomach and tears that he refuses to let slip out.

The cold air hits Louis like a brick wall and sends him careening back into the man’s chest. He wraps an arm around Louis’ hip and kisses his neck once again, obviously not concerned with the fact that Louis can hardly stand up straight.

“I’m going to ruin you,” he whispers into Louis’ neck.

“Too late,” Louis whispers back. The man doesn’t hear him though, he’s too busy grabbing at Louis’ ass and pushing them both forward onto the street.

“Louis?”

The sound of his name being called has Louis spinning around in the cold night air, looking for its source. And then there he is, Louis’ guardian angel in a pair of too short jeans and a raggedy jumper. He has snow in his curls and Louis wants so badly to run over and tousle them out, kiss his ruddy cheeks, and hug him.

“Harry, you’re an asshole!” Louis shouts, though he doesn’t know why. Maybe he thought it would make him feel better, but it doesn’t, so he follows up with, “No you’re not, you’re not an asshole. You’re an angel.”

Harry rearranges his backpack and walks up to them from the sidewalk, eying the guy behind Louis trying to pull him away. “Who’s this?”

Louis thinks for a moment before shrugging. “Dunno.”

Harry frowns at that. “Where are the boys? Did they come with you?” Louis shakes his head and Harry seems to be thinking for a moment, before reaching out to Louis. “Come on, I’m taking you home.”

“What?” The man behind Louis stirs, pulling his mouth away from Louis’ neck. He fixes Harry with a cold stare and tightens his arms around Louis. “No way, leave us alone, kid.”

Harry rolls his eyes and pulls Louis away easily. The man stumbles backwards drunkenly and starts yelling at them, but Harry ignores him and starts walking. Louis watches him for a bit, with his furrowed eyebrows and set jaw, and finds himself wondering if he’s angry. He should be angry with Louis, at least.

“Jesus, Louis, what did you drink?” he asks, finally. He doesn’t sound curious, though, just exhausted.

“Everything,” Louis chuckles.

Harry doesn’t seem to find it as hilarious as Louis does, and stays silent. He wraps an arm around Louis’ waist and directs him down the sidewalk, steering Louis away from street lamps and cars. His arm feels nice there, it’s a comfortable weight and warmth that Louis could definitely get used to.

“I could definitely get used to that,” Louis tells him.

Harry rolls his eyes. “You smell like a liquor store.”

“Does that turn you on?” Louis tries to wiggle his hips suggestively, but ends up just tripping over his own feet and pitching forward. Louis probably would’ve hit the ground were it not for Harry’s quick reflexes.

“My hero,” Louis says under his breath.

From then on the walk is silent, until they reach the flat. It has to be well past midnight, but the lights are shining from under the door meaning everyone is awake.

“Don’t make me go in there,” Louis groans. It’s been awhile since he’s disappeared like this, but they never take it well.

Harry ignores that. “Do you have your keys?”

Louis pats down his pockets but finds nothing. Harry sighs and rolls his shoulders, before knocking on the door.

Liam answers almost immediately, and even through his drunken haze he feels terrible. Liam looks panicked, what little hair he has sticking up at odd angles from pulling on it, and his eyes are red like he’s been crying. He spots Harry first, and opens his mouth to say something, but then notices Louis behind him and that’s it.

“Louis!” Liam grabs him in a tight hug, lifting him up until he’s standing on his tip toes. Liam pulls back and gives Louis a stern look that’s completely ruined by the fact that he’s tearing up.

“Louis, fuck, I was so worried about you. You can’t do that to me, goddammit, oh my god.”

“Hey Li,” Is all Louis can think to say. Liam lets out a sound between a sob and a groan and buries his head in the crook of Louis’ neck. He squeezes Louis tightly, as if he can stop the other boy from leaving again simply by holding him like this.

Liam finally pulls away and leads Louis inside, motioning for Harry to follow as well. He does, even though he looks reluctant about it.

“Harry, would you mind helping him to bed? I need to call Zayn and Niall, they’re out there looking.”

Harry nods. “Of course,” he says, taking over holding onto Louis. Louis walks with him to his room, grumbling the entire time about how he doesn’t need help-which is shot to hell when he tries to take his shoes off and ends up almost impaling himself on his collection of Shakespeare.

“Fucking Shakespeare,” he mutters.

Harry ignores Louis and helps him take off his shoes and jeans, before passing Louis the nearest pair of flannel pajama pants he can find. Louis lays down flat on his face, willing himself to completely disappear and never come back. He made Liam worry. He made Liam, Zayn, and Niall worry about he, they’ve been looking for him all night, and he is just a very bad person.

“Where did you find him?” Louis hears Liam ask.

“Outside of a club. Some guy was with him, they were stumbling around trying to leave, I guess,” Harry mumbles back. He pauses before adding, “Does he do this a lot?”

Liam sighs loudly and Louis feels soft fingertips brushing at his hair. “He drinks a lot, yeah. We never let him go out by himself though, he gets into trouble when he’s drunk. It’s just…he completely disappeared this morning after you left, he wouldn’t answer his phone, and he tends to drink like this when he feels down. He really didn’t mean any of what he said Harry, we were just teasing.”

Harry lets out a long sigh. “I know I just-can I help? What do you need me to do?”

Neither of them speak for a moment and Louis thinks he might have passed out again until he hears Liam speak.

“Could you, god this sounds awful,” Liam starts. “Just stay with him for a little while to make sure he doesn’t puke and choke to death, or pass out-make sure he’s breathing? I need to calm Zayn and Niall down a bit, but he should be sleeping by then.”

Louis can feel the bed sink next to him and figures it must be Harry. He wants to sit up, tell Harry he’s sorry for what he said, apologize to Liam for everything he’s ever done to him over the year, and maybe get a glass of water. Louis means to, really, but he can feel exhaustion taking him.

A voice breaks through his sleepy haze, though. Harry’s voice. “You’re so lucky, Louis.”

Louis manages to turn his head a bit and peek out of one of his eyes up at Harry. He’s leaning up against the headboard, looking out at the city from the window. He probably thinks Louis is still sleeping, probably doesn’t notice he’s being watched.

“You have all of these people who love you, and care about you. You are _so_ lucky,” Harry says firmly.

Louis wants to sit up and argue, tell Harry he probably has people who care about him, who love him as well. Louis even cares about him a little, as do the other boys, but all of those thoughts are lost as he slowly drifts back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ rebloggable post](http://amories.tumblr.com/post/181615148697/a-new-midnight-by-amory-chapters-124-summary) | [tumblr](http://amories.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter Four

There’s a comfortable weight on Harry’s chest when he wakes up, making him only that much more reluctant to do so. Along with the weight comes soft fingers on his palm. Harry half expects to find himself dreaming, but instead he opens his eyes to see it’s Louis. He’s still asleep, head resting over Harry’s heart, one arm slung over Harry’s waist, and the other laying haphazardly across Harry’s chest, fingers still tickling at his palm.

Louis is a drunk cuddler, and Harry doesn’t think he minds at all.

He probably wouldn’t be too pleased to wake up holding Harry’s hand, though, so Harry untangles their fingers as best he can without waking him. Louis lets out a short sigh, breath stirring the feathery hair around his face. It’s probably a bit creepy for him to do, but Louis is sleeping, so he won’t notice if Harry stares at him and wonders how on earth he’s even real, right?

Louis twists around a bit in his sleep and Harry catches sight of the love bite on his neck. It doesn’t even look as though it was enjoyable, it just looks like a giant bruise. Harry swears there are even teeth marks. Harry tries to quell the anger that’s rising in his chest at the memory of last night. Louis looked so small in comparison to that asshole who was carting him around like a prize he’d won.

“Harry?”

Harry looks up and sees the door creaking open. Liam pokes his head in and looks around, biting his lip when he sees the pair of them.

“Hey, mate.”

“Hey.”

Liam pulls the door the rest of the way open and steps inside the dark room. “How is he?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know. He had been in and out of the room all night, and when he finally fell asleep it was Niall or Zayn coming in to check.

Niall, who seems to have disappeared by now. The ticking clock across the room tells Harry it’s only seven in the morning.

Harry wipes his eyes to get rid of the bleariness, and shrugs, all while trying to keep Louis balanced on his body. “He’s fine, I think. Probably going to wake up to a massive hangover.”

Liam nods. “He probably isn’t going to go in to work today. So, if you…”

“You want me to stay with him?” Harry finishes.

Liam cringes, obviously uncomfortable with asking so much of Harry. “I feel like his mother, honestly, asking you to babysit him but, could you? The rest of us all have class, but if you need anything you can call us, Louis’ phone is on the counter.”

Harry lets his hand drift up to Louis’ hair, which is even softer than he thought it would be. He really should say no, he really should go and not let himself become any more attached than he already is. But Liam is giving him these puppy dog eyes and he can’t say no-the fact that he really doesn’t want to say no is beside the point.

“Yeah, I can do that.”

Liam lets out a long sigh, obviously relieved. “Honestly Harry, I don’t know how to thank you for all of this.”

Harry smiles. “Well, I’ve had a place to sleep for the past two nights so I’d say that’s thanks enough.”

Liam shakes his head. “Stay as long as you need to.”

It’s tempting. The other boys are incredible, funny, and nice to Harry, even though he showed up half dead and smelling like a dumpster. And then there’s Louis, who is making him feel things that are actually quite terrifying. But Harry knows they’re going to want something in return eventually, something more than this. Everyone wants something in return.

“Zayn and I should be back around five. Just try to keep him in the flat if you can until then. Niall hid all the alcohol, so we only really need to worry about him getting out to a pub or something.”

“It’ll be fine,” Harry assures him.

Liam nods and gives Louis’ sleeping figure one last sad look, before finally leaving the room.

Louis stay asleep for another hour or so. Harry wraps an arm around his shoulders and watches the big hand on Niall’s clock move. He tries not to let his mind linger on how Louis fits just right in his arms. _This is just temporary,_ he reminds himself. _Don_ _’t get attached._

“What’s your scar from?”

Harry jolts upwards, arm tightening around Louis until he realizes that’s who’s speaking. He’s awake now, looking up at me and poking at my t-shirt. His eyes are so blue, bluer than Harry’s ever seen, and Harry gets lost in them for a moment.

“Harry?” Louis’ morning voice is slightly deeper than normal, much more raspy. Harry decides he quite likes it.

“Hm?”

“Your scar, what’s it from?”

Louis taps Harry’s stomach, right over where the scar is hiding under his shirt. He cringes and sits up until Louis rolls off of him. That is definitely not a conversation he’ll be having with Louis, or anyone else for that matter.

“I’ll get you something for your head,” Harry says.

When he comes back into the room after searching for pain killers and water, he finds Louis curled up into a ball in the middle of his bed, holding his head between his hands. He groans when he notices Harry coming, and Harry feels his upper lip quirk.

“Paying good money for that drama degree, I hope.”

Louis sticks his tongue out at Harry like a child, but takes the medicine and water with a smile. He downs the pills easily and then cuddles back into the sheets, looking about five times smaller than he actually is.

“So much for leaving, huh?” Louis winks up at him through his arms.

Harry shakes his head. “M’still going. I just promised Liam I’d stay with you today.”

Louis makes a face. “Liam’s on a rampage then. Is he gone?” Harry nods. Louis grabs his blanket, pulling it off the bed and around himself. “Good, then let’s move this pity party to the couch. I’m going to change though, so if you want to stay-” Louis cuts off into laughter when Harry turns and leaves the room.

His first instinct is to head for the kitchen. He always cooked for his sister when she felt poorly. He finds a few eggs along with leftovers from the day before and decides to make omelets.

He’s in the middle of drowning the eggs in cheese when he hears the shushing noise of socks against hardwood.

“Can we keep you?”

Harry turns and sees Louis in just a jumper and boxers with the quilt draped around his shoulders. He leans against the doorway and smiles at Harry, making his stomach twist.

“Trust me, you don’t want to,” Harry blurts out, like a complete idiot.

“I beg to differ,” Louis laughs, and Harry tries not to think of the implications of that sentence. Louis goes silent for a while, but Harry can feel eyes on his back as he cooks. He’s sliding an omelet onto a plate when Louis speaks up. “What’s your favorite movie?”

Harry shrugs. “I dunno. I never really watched a lot of movies.”

Louis gasps exaggeratedly. “What kind of person doesn’t have a favorite movie?” he asks, sounding absolutely appalled at the though. Harry just shrugs. “This won’t do. Have you ever seen Aladdin?”

Harry shakes his head. Louis stares at him in complete disbelief for a moment, before rubbing at his temples.

“Come on Curly, today’s gonna change your life.”

Once Harry finishes cooking breakfast, he joins Louis in the living room. He’s cuddled up with his quilt on the couch, pulling it tight around his shoulders like he’s freezing or something.

“This was my sister’s favorite moving when we were younger,” he comments.

Harry passes him an omelet and sits down at the other end of the couch. “You have sisters?”

Something passes over Louis’ face that Harry can’t quite decipher, but it’s quickly replaced by a fond smile. “Yeah, five, and a brother, all younger.”

Harry goes to comment on that, but Louis quickly hushes him and the movie starts.

Leave it to Louis to find a cartoon musical about a homeless boy. He sings throughout the entire thing, going so far as to use his quilt as a magic carpet and attempt to act out a scene with Harry as his reluctant princess. He has a beautiful voice, Louis notices, and he kind of wishes Louis would continue to serenade him, even if he does look ridiculous.

“What would you wish for?” Louis asks towards the end of the movie.

Harry shrugs, not really thinking about it. “More wishes.”

Louis wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Oh, come on now Harold. Be original!”

“It’s actually just Harry.”

“Formalities,” Louis waves his head and Harry has to stifle a laugh. “Now give me your three.”

 Harry thinks it over for a moment before saying, “A lifetime supply of chocolate chip cookies, and a flat with a fireplace. I’ve always wanted a fireplace.”

He immediately regrets saying it, realizing he sounds like a child. Who wishes for chocolate chip cookies and a fireplace, really?

Louis doesn’t comment on it, just smiles. “You have three.”

Harry shrugs and eats the last piece of his food. “I’m saving the last one, you never know.”

Louis goes quiet then, and Harry figures he’s just watching the movie until he turns and finds the other boy staring at him. The colors of the cartoons on screen are reflecting back in his eyes, making them seem even bluer and more striking than normal. Louis leans down, putting his cheek in his hand and studying Harry for a little while longer.

“What’s it like,” he asks, finally. “Being homeless, I mean. If you don’t mind me asking.”

Harry looks down at his fingers in his lap, unable to keep eye contact any longer. No one’s ever asked him that before, granted he hasn’t spoken to very many people in the past few months. But still, he doesn’t know how to explain it, or what to say.

“Never mind,” Louis says quickly. “I’m sorry, I’m an arse sometimes.”

“No, it’s okay,” Harry replies. “I just-it’s hard to explain. It’s cold, I guess. Not just physically, but mentally. Everyone ignores you, walks right by like you aren’t even alive. And if they do notice you it’s just to give you those judging looks, like everything is your fault. That’s the worst part, I think, because I know it’s my fault. I just wished I could go one day without disgusting someone.”

“Harry,” Louis says softly, sneaking a hand out of his quilt to squeeze Harry’s knee. “You aren’t disgusting, love.”

Harry smiles, trying to hold back his tears. “You don’t know me,” he whispers.

Louis hadn’t ignored him. He didn’t hear Harry’s cries and walk past like Harry was nothing important. But still, Louis can’t get closer to him. If he gets closer he’ll know, he’ll know everything Harry’s ever done, how he ended up on the streets in the first place, about the scar, the accident. Louis would be just as disgusted with him as everyone else is, it’s only a matter of time.

“What would you wish for?” Harry asks, trying to change the subject.

Louis smiles. “I’ll tell you once I know you better. My little secret.”

The two boys spend the next few hours watching movies that Louis picks out. He hurriedly explains the plots before aptly watching as if he’s never seen them before. He even shows Harry the extent of his cooking skills, making the two of them pot noodles sometime around noon. Harry’s favorite of all the movies is Finding Nemo, and he ends up holding back tears while he watches like a child. Louis must notice because the quilt is soon wrapped around his shoulders, tenting between them.

“It has a happy ending, H, I promise,” Louis says. 

There’s a sharp pang in Harry’s stomach. “My sister used to call me that,” he whispers.

Louis just smiles at that. “It suits you. Coffee or tea?”

“Tea, please.”

“Good lad,” Louis replies, patting Harry on the back.

He leaves the quilt with Harry and disappears into the kitchen. On screen Dory and Marlin are riding on turtles through the ocean. Harry decides he’d quite like to go to Australia someday, to see if the turtles are really that old, maybe even get a little Nemo for himself. His sister would’ve laughed at the idea, but she would’ve loved it nonetheless.

“I think I’d quite like to know you, Harry,” Louis comments casually when he reenters the room. “I mean, I know you don’t want me to for whatever reason, but you’re very interesting. You seem so much older than you are.”

Harry frowns and takes the tea from his hands. “What does that mean?”

Louis sits back down under the quilt, closer to Harry this time. “Eyes are the window to the soul, or whatever, and yours seem interesting. I want to know your story.”

Harry sips at the tea Louis’ made him, which is excellent because although Louis can’t cook, he’s excellent at tea. He thinks over the words Louis has just aid before replying, “I’m far from interesting, I promise. But…”

“But?”

Harry takes another sip, for courage. “But you are. What were you doing last night?”

He doesn’t mean to say it, because he didn’t really mean to say anything at all. He wasn’t going to mention anything about last night because it’s not really for him to mention. He doesn’t know Louis, he isn’t a friend to him like Liam, Zayn, and Niall are.

Louis sighs. “I got today off my internship and decided I should celebrate,” he says easily. “Which reminds me, thanks for getting me away from that guy.  By the state of my neck I’d say any longer with him and I would’ve had to take off the whole week. Wouldn’t want to set a bad example of the kids.” Louis winks when he says the last part, like this is all a big joke.

Harry wants to ask if it is a joke to him. Liam, Zayn, and Niall were all absolutely distraught last night, Zayn came home yelling and demanding to see him. Louis had done that to them just by _celebrating_ as he calls it, and now he’s pretending like it wasn’t a big deal. Harry wants to shake him until he realizes how rare it is to have people like that in your life, how rare it is to find three people who love you so unconditionally and would run around in snowy London late at night to try and find you.

But Harry doesn’t ask, he just goes back to watching the movie.

Zayn and Liam walk in in the middle of Love, Actually. Zayn’s eyes instantly narrow when he sees Louis and the older boy starts scrambling back on the couch, babbling, “Oh hi Zayn. Have I ever mentioned how _fantastic_ you look-”

“Shut up,” Zayn growls. Liam puts a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder, not holding him back, just comforting. “Do you have any idea what you did last night?”

Louis bites his lip at bit. The sarcastic joking boy from only moments ago is gone. “I-I could guess?”

Zayn’s frown only deepens and Harry finds his heart rate accelerating. He doesn’t do well with yelling, or any kind of confrontation really, even when it isn’t aimed at him. He kind of wants to curl up into the blankets and hide until it’s over.

“This isn’t time for joking, Louis. Niall spent all of last night looking for you while my boyfriend, your brother, was inconsolable because he thought you’d died! And then you show up, completely shit faced, and you don’t care. Do you think I like seeing Liam cry, seeing Niall cry, watching you so drunk you’re almost dead?”

“Zayn,” Liam whispers in a soothing voice. He moves his hands until they’re wrapped around the other boy’s waist, and Harry notices Zayn is on the verge of tears. “It’s alright, love.”

“It isn’t alright, Liam,” Zayn’s voice cracks and he runs a hand through his hair roughly.

Louis looks lost for words. “I-I didn’t mean for you to be so worried-”

“You knew we’d worry Louis, you knew we would,” Zayn hoots back. “We called repeatedly, we went to every single bar and club you’ve ever stepped foot in, looking for you! This is past drinking, Louis, you have a problem.”

Louis’ eyes widen in fear. “Zayn, stop it. I’m fine, there isn’t a problem,” he says, his hands shaking just as much as his voice.

“There is a fucking problem!” Zayn’s voice booms, echoing through the flat and sending shivers down Harry’s spine.

Liam pulls Zayn into his arms, kissing his boyfriend on the forehead. “It’s okay Z, it’s okay. Come on, you need to calm down for a little bit, yeah? Come on.”

Louis and Harry both watch as Liam coaxes Zayn out of the living room and into their bedroom.

The flat goes strangely quiet until Louis coughs to break the awkward silence. “He’s, um, he can be…”

“Dramatic?” Harry finishes.

Louis smiles at him. “Yeah, dramatic.”

Niall comes stumbling into the flat not too long after Zayn’s explosion. He has his hands full with boxes of pizza and wings but practically drops them all when he sees Louis sitting on the couch. He quickly puts the food on the table and practically tackles Louis, holding the older boy tightly and squeezing.

“Calm down, Nialler, I’m fine.” Louis reassures him, but he doesn’t move to push Niall off.

Niall pulls back, finally, and punches Louis on the arm. “You can’t do that Lou!” He croaks out, his voice thick with tears. He leans his blond head against Louis’ chest and hugs him again, squeezing until Louis squirms around uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry, Niall, really I am.” Louis mutters.

Niall wipes at his nose, and then finally spots Harry. He grins, though his eyes are still slightly teary. “Harry,” he exclaims. “You’re still here!”

Harry nods and Niall pulls him into a quick hug, before propelling himself off the sofa and towards the kitchen.

“Where are Liam and Zayn, I’m going to eat all this pizza by myself,” he shouts. Louis rolls his eyes but laughs, and motions for Harry to follow him.

The three of them start eating, listening to Niall babble on about his day. Apparently he spent his whole day in lectures about business. Harry finds himself entranced with the idea of uni. He had wanted to go so badly back when he was younger, back before he found out that you don’t always get what you want most. He wanted to be a million different things, a lawyer, a singer, an English teacher, and now here he is. He should be doing those things, and instead he’s doing this. Nothing.

Liam and Zayn join them soon after they start eating. Zayn murmurs a soft apology to Louis who just nods and smiles, apparently willing to forget what’s happened. Harry’s halfway through his fifth chicken wing when Zayn finally speaks up again.

“Harry, what would you say if I told you I found you a job?”

Harry almost drops his food, staring at Zayn across the table in disbelief. “Are you…are you serious?”

Zayn shrugs. “It’s not a lot, just answering phones. I work at the radio station at school-”

“He’s a radio DJ,” Liam interrupts, smiling proudly.

Zayn rolls his eyes but still reaches out to squeeze Liam’s hand on the table. “It’s just the station for the university, hardly anyone listens to us. But still, it pays well enough. The woman who works there now is leaving and it’s kind of up to me and my mate to hire someone, but he never gets anything done without me. So, what do you say?”

“You could stay here!” Niall pipes up, pizza sauce on his face. “Oh my god, it’d be so great!”

Louis laughs and pats Harry on the back. “If you don’t say yes I think Niall might actually cry. We don’t want that, do we?” There’s a sparkle in his eye, though, that tells Harry he wouldn’t be too opposed to Harry staying either.

Harry bites his lip, turning back to Zayn. “I’ve only ever worked at bakery before I left home,” he warns him.

Zayn just waves his hand. “As long as you can work a phone and deal with me all day, it’ll be fine,” he smiles at Harry, obviously waiting for an answer. “Please tell me you’ll take it, I’d rather be stuck with you all day than whoever it is my co-host tries to hire.”

Harry thinks it over. With a job he’d be able to save his money, maybe even get his own tiny flat somewhere. He could buy clothes, food, whatever he needs. He could be independent. So, he nods.

“Yeah, I’ll do it. Thank you so much, Zayn, I really mean it,” Harry says. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to repay these boys for what they’ve done for him in such a short amount of time.

“No problem mate. You can start on Monday,” Zayn replies, like it’s nothing. But it isn’t nothing, and Harry can tell that by the look Louis gives him when he turns back to his food. It’s everything to him, more than he ever could’ve dreamt of.

Harry doesn’t even protest when Louis helps him make a bed on the couch that night, he just smiles and thanks him, before falling asleep thinking of his sister. He’d like to believe she’d be proud of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the new chapter! Thank you for all the love and support as always. I hope this makes us all feel a bit better. xx
> 
> [ rebloggable post](http://amories.tumblr.com/post/181615148697/a-new-midnight-by-amory-chapters-124-summary) | [tumblr](http://amories.tumblr.com)


	6. Chapter Five

Harry slips right into their life over the next few days like he’s always been there. He cooks them breakfast every morning, he lets Niall crawl all over him while they watch telly, he listens to Liam drone on about Zayn’s eyelashes when he has too many glasses of wine with dinner. He even lets Zayn experiment on his curls with random hair products. In just a few short days Harry becomes a welcome bit of happiness in their lives.

And Louis likes him as well of course, probably a lot more than he should like him, but still. It’s just that he finds himself picking out the littlest things about Harry to like. He likes the way Harry laughs and shows off the dimples in his cheeks. He likes the way Harry doesn’t complain when he wakes him up in the morning by jumping on his long legs on the couch. Louis likes how he looks in the giant sweaters he borrows, he likes sitting around together and watching movies, he likes when Harry drifts off into that inexplicable broodiness and speaks slow with his eyebrows.

Louis likes Harry.

He hasn’t had a drink since Tuesday night. It’s Monday morning. To say he’s feeling antsy is an understatement but he thinks Harry might be worse off currently.

He’s sitting at the kitchen table playing with a stray string on his shirt, his fingers shaking as he does so.

“Harry,” Louis chuckles, and the other boy looks up immediately dropping his hands. “You’ll be fine, lad. Want me to skip today and come with you for a few hours?”

Harry’s eyes meet Louis’, all wide eyed and disbelieving. “Really? Won’t you get in trouble?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Like that woman would ever think to yell at me. She loves me, trust me H.”

Harry chuckles at that, his dimples showing, and Louis smiles back. Mission accomplished.

Despite Louis’ reassurances, Harry’s still too jittery for Louis to even think about letting him near a stove. Instead, Louis pours him a bowl of cereal and makes up a lie to tell Mrs. Baker about an advisor meeting. Harry watches him do so with a cheeky grin on his face, obviously amused with how the woman seems to flirt even over the phone.

The five of them leave together, taking the tube from their flat to the university. Without even thinking about it, Louis finds himself sticking closer to Harry, going so far as to tuck the younger boy close to his side while they wait for the train to arrive. That’s when he notices Harry looking around the station wearily.

“What’s wrong?” Louis whispers.

Harry shuffles a little closer to Louis before finally whispering back, “I used to sleep here sometimes.”

Louis makes sure to keep his arm wrapped around Harry’s waist a little tighter after that.

Niall goes running off first, late as usual, but all of his professors think he’s an angel so they don’t seem to mind. Liam’s next after a very lengthy goodbye to Zayn that lasts until Louis starts catcalling them.

Zayn leads the other two boys across campus to the radio station. “Basically, all you gotta do is answer phones, direct them to us, take a note, or hang up on prank calls. Hardly anyone ever calls, though, so really you’re just putting up with all of us.”

Harry bites his lip but nods, trailing behind Zayn and sticking close to Louis. Louis nudges him slightly, wanting his smile back.

“Hey, you’ll be fine. You can answer phones, you’re a strong independent young man.”

Harry nudges back and rolls his eyes, but Louis can see a laugh shaking his shoulders.

Louis isn’t exactly looking forward to spending what little time he is in the radio station. Sure, he loves hanging around with Harry and Zayn, but Zayn’s so called “co-star” not so much. Not after a drunk one night stand sophomore year that neither of them were too happy about.

The three of them enter the radio station to find it empty, save for the little room where an obnoxious voice is speaking about some band or another. Zayn passes the front desk and opens the door to the studio.

“Louis Tomlinson,” a voice comes booming through the room as soon as the door is opened. “Now there’s a sight for sore eyes!”

“Hey, aren’t you on air?” Zayn reprimands.

Nick Grimshaw spins around in the chair next to the switchboard, laughing manically. “Sorry Malik. You’re late, you know,” he says. He then presses a button on the board and music fills the room, meaning they can no longer be heard by any listeners.

“Yeah, I know,” Zayn replies, rolling his eyes. “But I’ve brought you a present.”

Zayn reaches for Harry and tugs the boys forward, which is when Louis notices how wide Harry’s eyes are as he stares up at Nick.

“Harry, this is Nick Grimshaw. Nick, this is Harry-”

“Styles?” A grin splits Nick’s face. “Harry Styles! Look at you, love, all grown up.”

Harry looks down at his feet. “Hey Nick.”

Nick laughs, “Hey Nick,” he repeats in a ridiculous impression of Harry’s voice. “Get your skinny arse over here!”

Louis crosses his arms in a decidedly not jealous stance and watches as Nick pulls Harry in for a large hug. It takes a moment but the younger boy finally hugs him back.

Louis looks to Zayn who shrugs back, appearing just as confused. Nick finally breaks the hug and ruffles Harry’s curls a bit. “How’ve you been mate? You just about dropped off the face of the earth, yeah?”

Harry’s eyes widen even more, if possible, and Louis can see him trying not to shake his head. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

Nick frowns, his bushy eyebrows drooping. “Harry, seriously. I mean you scared me a bit, love-”

“Christ Grimmy, shut the fuck up,” Harry snaps. That’s the loudest Louis has ever heard him speak, and he doesn’t think he’s heard Harry swear the entire time they’ve been together either. The three of them watch him in disbelief until the silence is broken by Nick’s loud laughter.

He claps Harry on the back hard, and Harry just smiles up at him. “I missed you, kid. You’re friends with Zayn and Tommo, then?”

“Louis,” Louis snaps back.

Harry smiles at him, green eyes meeting Louis’. “Nick’s just jealous, Lou, don’t mind him,” he chuckles.

Nick gasps dramatically. “Ouch, low blow Styles.”

“How do you two know each other?” Louis asks, hating how snippy he sounds. Judging by the glint in Zayn’s eyes, his jealousy is completely obvious.

Nick laughs and Harry cringes when he announces proudly, “I was his first boyfriend.”

“You were not,” Harry mutters, face flaring red. “You were just my first kiss.”

Nick smiles and gently nudges Harry’s chin with the knuckle of his crooked finger. “Still just as cute as ever, Hazza babe.”

Seeing Louis’ confused look, Harry quickly explains. “We went to the same school before he graduated. And we kinda dated, for a little bit.”

Harry finally pulls out of Nick’s arms and walks back over to Louis. Without another thought to it, Louis wraps his arm around Harry’s waist again, pride surging in his chest when the other boy blushes and slots in next to me.

“We should be getting back,” Zayn says. “You can only play that shit music for so long until someone notices.”

Nick smirks, eying Louis’ arm around Harry’s waist before nodding. “Yeah, we’ll catch up later Harry,” he shoots them one last ridiculous smile and reenters the booth.

“Desk is over there, phone, computer and everything,” Zayn says, pointing to the desk near the door. “Lunch is around noon, which is when Nick and I switch out with the afternoon girls. They’re nice, just try not to flirt with them too much.”

Harry stiffens a bit and nods. “Got it.”

“I’ll be back after my last class around five to pick you up, if you want,” Zayn offers, and Harry agrees immediately. A small smile pulls at Zayn’s lips and he reaches over to put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Hey, don’t be nervous okay? You’ll be fine it’s an easy job.”

Harry bites at his lip. “Thank you,” he says, his voice sounding like it’s going to break. Louis realizes he isn’t nervous so much as overwhelmed. Louis can’t even imagine going from homeless to this in a week. While he continues to talk to Zayn about other things he’s supposed to be doing, Louis squeezes his fingers over Harry’s hip and sends him his most reassuring smile.

Zayn finally disappears into the booth with Nick, leaving Louis alone with Harry. He looks around the small entrance a bit, before sitting down in the chair behind the desk. When Louis returns with his own chair, he finds Harry spinning around like a child and has to bite back his grin. He looks like a little kid, kicking his torn up sneakers around as he goes.

“So, boyfriend huh?” Is the first thing that comes out of Louis’ mouth. He sounds like an idiot, a stupid jealous idiot. He is a stupid jealous idiot, actually, and he has no right to be.

Harry of course doesn’t say that, he just smiles at Louis like the cute bastard he is. “Not even for a few weeks. I was 15. He likes to pretend he’s the one who ‘converted’ me. Do you know him well?”

Louis thinks back to his drunken one night stand and shrugs. “You could say that.”

Harry smiles. “Nick can be a bit much.”

“He’s a bit of a dick,” Louis mutters. Not only does Nick feel the need to remind Louis that they slept together every time they have the misfortune of speaking, but he’s also told practically everyone he knows about it as well. He thinks he’s hilarious. He isn’t.

“So, Styles huh? Proper popstar name, that.”

Harry laughs. “I thought you were the popstar,” he says, going back to kicking his feet around and spinning.

“I try, kid,” Louis sighs, attempting to flip his hair as best he can. It sends Harry into a fit of adorable giggling. Everything about Harry is adorable, Louis thinks, verging on sexy. It’s nice to watch his giggling mouth and also imagine those pretty lips doing other, more obscene things.

“Lou?”

Louis blinks away from Harry’s lips, feeling a blush heating up his cheeks. “Sorry, zoned out.”

“S’alright,” Harry says. Louis’ heart practically stops when Harry opens his mouth slightly, licks his lips, and smirks.

Harry and Louis hang around his desk until noon when they leave Nick and Zayn to go get lunch. During that whole space of time, there’s only one phone call. It came from a girl who wanted to talk to Zayn because she has _the biggest crush on him, like, ever_ and wanted to talk to him. Watching Harry calmly try and explain that Zayn has a boyfriend was probably the highlight of Louis’ life.

Louis tugs Harry with him into the uni cafeteria, refusing to let Harry complain about Louis wasting money on him. After Louis practically forces Harry to eat a sandwich with him, it’s time for Harry to get back to the station and for Louis to leave.

Perrie and Jesy, the girls who run the station in the afternoon, start cooing over Harry immediately. Louis leaves right after Perrie suggests to the radio that they might do Harry’s hair and makeup and Harry sends Louis frantic looks.

Louis’ halfway through helping Mrs. Baker with her boring lesson when his phone buzzes with a text from Perrie. It’s a picture of Harry, hair pulled up in pigtails and blusher on his cheeks, smiling like an absolute loon. Louis has to cover his laughter with a coughing fit that leads to an actual coughing fit and Louis embarrasses himself in front of the entire class.

Later, once he’s returned home for the day, Zayn’s name pops up on his phone with a call. “Hey Z,” he greets, turning back to his laptop. Part of his internship requires him reporting back on it, eventually coming up with a paper on how it’s helped him in some way. He’s been putting it off for a while now, but he has the flat to himself for a little while and figured now is a good a time as any.

 “It’s actually, um, it’s Harry.”

Louis smiles and softly closes his laptop. “Oh, hi Harry.”

“Hi. Zayn said I should be the one to ask you this, but now he’s smirking at me. Why are you smirking at me?”

Louis chuckles at the muffled sounds of Harry talking to Zayn, whose laughter Louis can hear clearly through the line.

“Anyway,” Harry starts again. “Nick wants to go out to celebrate my new hob and everything, and I wanted to know if you would come too?”

Louis pauses. “Why me?”

“Because I like you, Lou,” Harry replies as if that’s an obvious answer. Louis almost says yes right then, but he remembers he’ll have to spend the whole night not only with Nick, but with Liam, who more than likely won’t let him near a drink.

Louis rubs at his tired eyes and groans. “But Nick will be there?”

“You don’t like Nick?” Harry sounds heartbroken, and dammit, there’s Zayn’s ridiculous laughter in the background again. “It’s okay, I’ll see you later then-”

“No,” Louis interrupts. He drops his head into his hands and curses himself for this. “I um, I’ll come kid.”

Louis can hear the smile in Harry’s voice, and can practically see the dimples in his cheeks poking in. “Great! Here’s Zayn, he’s gonna tell you where it is. I’ll see you later Louis.”

There’s some commotion as Harry passes the phone over followed by more laughter.

“Shut the fuck up, Zayn.”

As expected, Liam gives Louis an ultimatum before they enter the pub. It’s along the lines of _If you get drunk tonight I swear to god I_ _’ll never speak to you again and I will make your life a living hell,_ which Louis takes seriously because Liam never threatens him. That’s how he ends up where he is currently, at a table alone with Nick Grimshaw and a very drunk Harry Styles.

Niall, Liam, and Zayn have abandoned him here, running off to get more pints and never returning. Louis can see them across the pub, talking to a few people they’ve found from school. Louis should go too, but for some reason he really doesn’t want to leave Harry alone, and Harry won’t leave Nick alone. So here he is, watching on jealously as drunken Harry tries to tell a knock knock joke. Louis has only allowed himself one drink, just to get the edge off, and it is nowhere near enough.

“So, H,” Nick interrupts Harry halfway through a joke about a giraffe. “How did you end up with Louis and the boys?”

Harry frowns, looking adorably confused for a moment, before nodding. “Oh, Niall gave me money and then Louis found me,” he says.

Nick, who isn’t nearly as drunk as Harry is, looks to Louis. “What’s he talking about?” he asks. “Is your Irishman trying to start a prostitution ring with my Hazza?”

Harry laughs loudly, not covering his mouth like he does when he’s sober, just letting it out.

“No,” Louis growls. “ _Your Hazza_ was homeless. Maybe if you were such great friends you would know that.”

Nick’s smile immediately drops, and he looks confused. “Homeless?” he asks, turning to Harry, who is currently draping himself all over the older man. Louis clutches his glass even tighter when Nick brushes a curl out of Harry’s eyes and tilts his chin up until their eyes meet. “Babe, why wouldn’t you call me?”

Harry giggles and pokes Nick’s nose. “Because you would have called Dad, and you can’t do that Nick. He doesn’t like me very much.”  He drags out his words even more than he does when sober, punctuating it with cute little giggles every few syllables.

Nick winces at this and drops his voice so low it’s hard to hear. “Harry, you told me he stopped.”

Harry just laughs again, loudly, obviously not catching on to keep things quiet. “I lied,” he announces, clapping his hands. I lie about everything.”

Nick looks far from impressed but doesn’t say anything else, just lets Harry laze all over him. The only noises for a while are the little boops and beeps Harry makes while he pokes at Nick’s face and body. He reaches for hi glass, and pouts when he finds it’s empty.

“Oh dear,” he sighs, completely seriously, and Louis laughs.

“Babe, why don’t you come back to mine?” Nick’s voice breaks through the chatter again. “I’ll take care of you.”

Louis swears if he didn’t have more self control, he’d jump across the table and pull Nick’s hair right out.

Luckily for him, Harry speaks up first. “Well, what about Louis?”

“What about Louis?”

Harry looks to Louis, cheeks red from drinking and pupils blown wide. “Louis has to come too, I don’t wanna leave him. He’s very pretty,” he says, before covering his mouth with his hand and erupting into giggles. “We watched Aladdin together, he has a very nice face.”

“He doesn’t drink very often I’m guessing,” Louis laughs.

Nick turns to glare at Louis, probably angry that Louis is inhibiting him possibly getting laid tonight. “No, he doesn’t. You know what, boys, I think I’m gonna head out.”

“Please do,” Louis mutters.

Harry starts shaking his head. “Oh no, Nick, don’t leave, stay! Stay and drink with us, Nicholas. Grimshaw, Grimmy, stay,” he whines, wrapping his arms around Nick’s neck.

Nick shakes him off and starts standing up. “Stay with Pretty Boy, how about that?” he asks, nodding towards Louis with a shit eating grin.

“How about you fuck off?” Louis growls.

Harry’s eyes go even wider if possible and he looks at Louis in surprise. Louis swears he looks like he’s about to start crying. “Don’t fight, please don’t fight you guys.”

“We aren’t fighting,” Louis reassures him. Harry nods and brings his knees up to his chin anyway, wrapping himself into a ball.

Nick drops a quick kiss to the top of Harry’s head and then leaves. “See you tomorrow, H, bright and early!” he shouts as he walks to the door. Harry waves back frantically until Nick is well past gone.

Louis relaxes back into the booth, glad to be rid of him. Louis can now spend the next few hours watching Harry and being regrettably sober. Harry slides out of his side of the booth and stumbles over to Louis’ side, leaning on his shoulder and smiling up at him. How he still manages to be adorable right now is beyond Louis.

“Louis, I’m drunk,” Harry sighs.

Louis laughs and brushes a curl out of Harry’s eyes. “I can see that.”

Harry shakes his head. “No drinking for you, though. Nope, none. Pinky promise,” he says, tugging Louis’ pinky with his own. He doesn’t let go though, just tugs Louis’ hand down with his and starts playing with Louis’ fingers. “You don’t have to like Nick, I forgive you.”

Louis laughs and shakes his head. “Thanks Harry.”

Niall is the first to return back to them, holding food as usual. He’s managed to find himself a basket of chips which he sets in the middle of the table like a trophy. “You’re welcome, idiots,” he says, dropping into the booth across from them and reaching for a chip. When he notices Harry, he laughs. “How’s it going?”

“Fantastic!” Harry laughs, holding their interlocked hands up in the air for a moment.

Niall smiles at Louis and Louis rolls my eyes. “That’s great mate, glad you’re having a good time,” Niall says.

 Harry hums happily and picks at Louis’ fingers, bending them and pushing them back until they crack. Louis doesn’t mind though, it’s nice to have Harry’s hand in his at all.

Louis really should stop thinking like that about him. Even though he doesn’t want to admit it, and he won’t ever admit it, Liam is right. Louis can’t afford to fall for Harry because it won’t end well, nothing ever does with him. The only thing Louis would end up doing is breaking his own heart and ruining Harry, ruining his wide innocent eyes, and his laugh, because that’s what Louis does. He ruins people.

“I’m sorry I lie to you,” Harry says suddenly. Louis looks to him in confusion, but Harry won’t meet his eyes. “I don’t want to.”

“What do you mean?” Louis asks.

Harry just giggles again and closes his eyes, settling in close to Louis’ side. “I have to lie to you and I don’t want to, because you’re so sweet, and your eyes are so blue, and I just want you. And I don’t want you to hate me.”

A quick look up shows Niall isn’t paying attention, too busy glued to his phone and devouring the chips, so Louis turns back to Harry. Tears are forming in his closed eyes, gathering at the tips of his eyelashes.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, H,” Louis whispers, brushing a thumb across his cheeks.

Harry shakes his head, sighing sadly. “You could. If you knew, you could, and you would. But that’s okay, I understand.”

Louis wants to ask him what he’s talking about, but it’s too late. Harry falls asleep, right there in the middle of a pub, curls tickling Louis’ neck, mouth hanging open and drunk, and Louis finds it endearing.

He stays asleep too, rousing only to walk from the pub to the taxi, and then from the taxi to the flat. Louis rolls his eyes when the other boys smile at him in the car, and when Zayn starts muttering about him being domestic when Louis helps Harry lay on the couch.

“Be careful, yeah?” Liam says to Louis before he heads back to his own room. “I approve of course, just…just take it slow.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “We’re just friends Li trust me.”

But part of Louis is happy. He’s happy that Liam isn’t angry with him for once in a long time. He’s happy that they all think something could happen with Harry, even if it won’t. He can’t be happy for too long though, because that just isn’t the way his life or anyone else’s works, is it?

At around three in the morning, Louis is woken up by the sound of someone calling, “Harry? Harry!” Louis groans and flips around in bed. For some reason the door is open and light is shining in from the living room. He’s about to put it off as some sort of weird dream when he realizes it’s Niall yelling.

“Guys? Louis, someone wake up!” Niall shouts.

Louis jolts awake suddenly, his brain still fuzzy from sleep, but clear enough now to know something is wrong. He trips out of bed, his feet caught up in the sheets. When he finally reaches the living room, he sees Niall has all of the lights on and he’s kneeling at the side of the couch, trying to shake Harry awake. The younger boy is whimpering like he’s in pain and shaking terribly, his breath coming in short gasps.

“What happened?”

Niall whips his head up and lets out a relieved sigh when he sees Louis. “I don’t know, I just went for some water and he’s like this. I can’t get him to wake up, Lou, help me,” Niall says, his voice breaking in fear. He goes back to trying to shake Harry awake.

Louis nods and drops down at Harry’s side as well. Niall pulls back a bit and lets Louis brush his fingers over Harry’s curls. He doesn’t know what to do, he’s never seen anyone do this before.

“Harry, can you hear me?”

Harry moans in pain again, clutching at his stomach. “I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to,” he mumbles. “Please stop. Help, someone please. Stop.” It takes Louis a moment to realize Harry’s talking in his sleep, not to him. He’s having a nightmare.

Louis shakes his shoulder gently, leaning forward to whisper to him. “It’s just a dream, love, wake up,” he whispers in Harry’s ear. “You have to wake up, alright? Harry.”

Harry gasps and his eyes fly open. “Stop, stop, stop,” he breathes. The words fall out of his mouth in a jumbled mess. Louis goes to move back but Harry grabs his arms and stops him. Recognition passes over his glassy green eyes and he lets out a short sob. “Louis?”

Louis nods. “Yeah, it’s me, love. Breathe, Harry, okay? It was just a dream, you’re okay, I promise.”

Harry grabs his shirt and pulls forward until he’s sliding off the couch and into Louis’ arms. Once there he curls up in the fetal position and starts sobbing against Louis’ chest. Louis makes soft lulling noises and rubs his back.

“Are you hurt? What happened?”

Harry shakes his head. “No, I’m fine, just…scared,” he replies through heavy breathing. His fingers tighten on Louis’ shirt and Louis can hear him counting quietly to the time of his chest rising and falling until it slows down.

“It’s alright, I promise,” Louis whispers into his curls. “Won’t let anyone hurt you. It’s okay.”

Harry nods and curls in closer to Louis’ chest. His eyes flutter closed and he lets out one long breath.

“Thank you.”

His voice sounds so teary and broken that Louis’ stomach flips. “Nothing to thank me for,” he whispers. “You’re safe, go back to sleep.”

“Please don’t leave,” Harry whispers, moving to wrap his arms around Louis’ back.

Louis shakes his head. “I won’t, I’ll be right here. I promise.”

Niall watches on until Harry falls back asleep, luckily with no more bad dreams. Niall shakes his head and runs a hand through his mussed up hair. “Christ, that was scary,” he mutters. “Thanks mate.”

Louis shrugs. “It’s fine. Help me get him back up, would you?” Niall nods and helps Louis stand up, his arms under Harry’s knees. When they try to lay him back on the couch, Harry stirs.

“No,” he cries, his grip tightening on Louis.

Niall looks to Louis. “Need help?”

Louis shakes his head. “It’s alright, come on.”

The two of them carefully carry Harry out of the living room and back into their room, setting him down on Louis’ bed. Niall leaves to turn off the lights in the living room while Louis tries his best to shift Harry around a bit until he’s comfortable enough to lay down.

Niall reenters the room, shutting the door softly behind him. “Do you think he was dreaming about those guys who beat him up?” he asks, his bottom lip sticking out sadly.

Louis shrugs. “Could’ve been. He sounded like he was being hurt.”

Niall nods, watching the two of them before going back to his bed. “It kind of makes you think, doesn’t it?” he says softly. Louis waits for him to elaborate, which he does once he’s made it to his bed. “He doesn’t really have anyone to be there for him. It makes me think of you, how you don’t talk to your family, and…we’re kind of like your family you know? And he wasn’t lucky enough to get that.”

“Yeah,” Louis clears his throat, refusing to cry. “My fucked up version of a family.”

Niall chuckles a bit. “Yeah, I guess,” he pauses before adding, “I love you, Lou.”

“I love you too, Nialler,” Louis whispers back. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Louis tries to sleep after that, but he ends up staying up even later just thinking. He thinks about what Niall said, and then he thinks about what Harry had said when he thought Louis was asleep. When he told Louis how lucky he was to have the boys. And he is lucky to have them, Louis realizes, more lucky than he’ll ever really know. Maybe that’s what Harry needs too.

Harry squirms a bit in Louis’ arms, moving to rest his head against Louis’ collarbone. He sighs in contentment, a smile on his lips. Louis tucks the quilt up higher around him not wanting for him to be cold. Finally, he kisses the top of Harry’s head, and lets his eyes fall closed in sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ rebloggable post](http://amories.tumblr.com/post/181615148697/a-new-midnight-by-amory-chapters-124-summary) | [tumblr](http://amories.tumblr.com)


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